


An Angel for the Traveler

by LeafThoj



Series: Demigod Boys Love [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bisexual Male Character, College Student Travis Stoll, Domestic Violence, Gay Male Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kahale x Stoll, Kaholl, Living Together, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Marriage Proposal, Oracle prophecies, Police, Police Officer Michael Kahale, Same-Sex Marriage, Sexual Assault, Trauma, Travis Stoll x Michael Kahale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 92,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafThoj/pseuds/LeafThoj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a secret that Travis Stoll has kept for a long time. Five years to be exact. There was actually two secret, but the first one didn't really matter anymore. The second one was the problem. Watching one of his best friends--Will Solace--with someone so opposite him made Travis yearn for something he can't have. He wished there was something he could do, but he was pushing his time with the camp. Being rejected scared him, especially since he'd already gone through it with someone that was supposed to love him for who he is. When Will ends up disappearing for a few days and coming back completely different Travis makes the only other choice that matters. It was time to leave it all behind.</p><p>Michael Kahale was straightforward, honest and a bit too blunt for his superiors to like. Well except Frank Zhang and Reyna appreciated that he was so truthful, especially now that his sponsor killed himself to supposedly "save" them all. He could live with having let Octavian kill himself. Others who knew the truth seemed a bit bothered by it, probably because he never bothered to explain why. Michael didn't need to explain himself to anybody. He knew what he wanted and he'll take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Traveler's Sweet Dreams

“Time to let him go and have sweet dreams little one.” Travis told himself not to look. He really shouldn’t. Alethea had gone to sleep right away, because that voice had the power to charm people. The power to charm him.

When he looked up, his heart pounding wildly, he saw him. Naturally bronze tan, dark hair cut short and out of the way, dark seeing eyes, and standing at the entrance of the sleeping quarters like an Adonis. Oh gods, did Travis really just compared him to _the_ Adonis.

He found himself scooting away once he got on his feet. His entire face flushed up and he looked away, hating himself for acting like some shy little school girl who was alone after school with her crush. Travis normally wasn’t like this, he promised he wasn’t, but he didn’t know how to act like himself around the guy approaching him now.

“Connor Stoll?” the man asked. Travis’ entire world decided to break apart. Michael thought he was his brother. He didn’t answer, he didn’t know how to. Words were lost to him.

“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong guy,” Travis said.

“No, you are the guy,” Michael Kahale got to him in three strides. Travis tried to duck away but Michael’s hands were quicker. One strong, callused hand had him by the arm, the other hand was on his jaw in a vice grip. Kahale forced Travis to look up into his face. “Yes, you are,” Michael said when he looked at Travis’ face.

Not many people could tell him and Connor apart. Sometimes Percy couldn’t even tell them apart, and they used to share a cabin. Will, Nico, Annabeth and perhaps only some others have ever successfully been able to tell them apart.

“You are Connor Stoll. The younger brother.”

Travis grew angry. The guy he liked happened to think he was his younger brother. Just perfect. As if he didn’t already have enough problems with his mother not wanting to see his face until she could wrap herself around loving a _gay_ son. He tried to tell her that he was actually bisexual but that didn’t seem to matter, it was the fact that he _does_ like guys.

With whatever strength he had left from the quest he escaped from Michael’s grip and ducked under the bigger man. He was good at running, especially when he wasn’t thinking about whether to slow down or go faster.

“Stoll!”

Travis covered his ears, because Michael Kahale was a child of Venus. He ran without thinking of whether he needed to stop or not. He ducked past Will, registering his friend for a second before not thinking at all. He ran around the north woods for a time until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Then he just laid there on the dirt staring up at the night sky, thinking to himself how much he hated his life. The burning in his chest made the burning sting of tears seem like nothing. Then clarity of mind began to envelope him and his peace was once again disturbed.

He really didn’t like his life. If only his mother hadn’t fallen for his dad. If only she hadn’t fallen for him a short while later again and conceived Connor.

People always mistook them for twins and they always compared them. Travis was taller but Connor was buffer—at least now they could see the difference in their teens. Travis was better at fighting and languages, Connor was better at lock-picking and stealing. Travis could hotwire a car faster but Conner had more spontaneous pranks. Not many noticed the differences because at an early age they knew it was better to just do everything together so they wouldn’t be compared. Not many could tell them apart anyways.

The dread and hate in his life sank against his heaving chest again. If only he had never saw Michael Kahale in the battlefield that day. If only he had never knew Michael Kahale existed. If only…

Travis felt like the tears won’t be stopped this time with other thoughts but he stopped himself. He didn’t cry when Clarisse nearly maimed him, he wasn’t going to cry now. He didn’t cry when he watched demigods versus demigods in the second Titan War, he didn’t cry when he had to burn shrouds of his fallen friends, he didn’t cry when he had to watch them get buried.

So what if Michael Kahale thought he was Connor? What was so great about Connor?

Travis sat up angrily, a knee bent up as he leaned over it with an arm rested on top it. Travis was much more handsome. He was smarter. He was more mature.

But well Connor was slightly cuter since he acted a bit more like a menace and great at playing innocent. He had that cheeky streak that Travis couldn’t continue anymore. Connor also wasn’t as judgmental as Travis was about certain things, and he also didn’t get as rattled. For example during the war meeting for the Roman/Greek all-out war that would have allowed Gaea to take over had been too hard on him. He’d made some lame excuse and left Connor to attend the meeting. In truth Travis had been so upset with another possible demigod war he’d accidentally set the landmines in the wrong hill.

To think a Roman would be attracted to someone as messed up as Travis was stupid. Not to mention how pathetic it was to have a guy around your age want to be in a male-male relationship with you. Travis was never more disheartened. Michael Kahale probably made the mistake because of their faces and the assumption because he’d noticed Travis’ feelings and thought that since Connor was younger it was acceptable.

Travis started to poke the ground with his finger. He stayed outside that night. He was grateful the harpies didn’t find him. They probably hadn’t been told or hadn’t realized that Travis was back yet. For some reason he liked that idea, especially since he didn’t want to be dragged back to camp battered and cut up by harpies anytime soon in front of all of demigod-dom again. He lived through public embarrassment once.

Instead that night he laid outside in the forest and couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to five years ago.

 

Travis remembered the first time he saw Michael Kahale. It was the final fight with Gaea and the monsters. Michael Kahale walked through the hordes of battle like nothing, forcing anyone and anything to move aside. So many were stunned by his grace and beauty before even realizing he was the enemy or the comrade until he was gone. Travis was afar, fighting his own battle beside Connor when he’d seen him.

[ ](http://pre14.deviantart.net/1eea/th/pre/i/2015/231/1/1/michael_kahale___war_against_gaea_by_leafthoj-d96d24b.png)

[Michael Kahale approaching](http://pre14.deviantart.net/1eea/th/pre/i/2015/231/1/1/michael_kahale___war_against_gaea_by_leafthoj-d96d24b.png)

He saw the Roman “angel” (as he’d thought at the time) approach the oganer where August— _Octavian_ (everyone mixed up his name as he was named after the Roman guy who changed his name to that) was and watched as he made Will and Nico stand back. Then Octavian shot himself into the sky. Afterwards Michael just disappeared, probably into the thick of battle without looking back. It seemed Michael didn’t have any remorse with allowing Octavian to kill himself.

Travis remembered the first weekend where the demigod children of Camp Jupiter had joined them. It was capture the flag, the Hermes cabin had lead versus the Ares cabin’s lead. The Roman demigods joined their respective Roman parent’s Greek cabin. That meant Michael was in the Ares’ team. Since it was their first game the Venus children had decided to do as the Aphrodite team usually did—stand on the sidelines and cheer.

Travis and Connor had acted as decoy to get Clarisse into the celestial trap net. He’d yelled taunts at Clarisse and shouted how he’d seen her underwear and some pretty extreme things. It was rather shameful if he thought about it now—but he was really young then. Worse was probably that he hadn’t bothered to realize that Michael would be watching from atop Zeus’ fist (where the Aphrodite cabin was cheering).

Connor had set the net the moment Clarisse made the clearing from the woods, but she’d caught up with Travis at the time. Neither of them had accounted for Clarisse to be that fast. He fell into the trap hole with Clarisse, the celestial bronze netting they’d stolen from the Hephaestus cabin kept both of them trapped inside.

Although Percy and Jason were able to take the flag thanks to this, Travis came out so bruised he had a feeling the only part of him that wasn’t bruised or sore were his face, hands and feet. Then at the Mess Hall he tried to sit down to eat only to shout as he stood back up. There were a lot of chuckles and laughter, his own cabin mates throwing jokes. Travis wasn’t going to live it down.

He had to appreciate Will going into song at that very moment because Travis needed the distraction to go hide himself from embarrassment. Everyone from Camp Jupiter knew within a week of how a guy was beaten up by a girl.

That night Travis ate at the Amphitheater. Of course someone else was there. Nico di Angelo was sitting alone too so they decided to eat together—well more like Travis imposed on him.

Nico wasn’t eating much. He’d just been nibbling on some waffles. He didn’t make any judgment calls because who said breakfast food had to be for breakfast?

Travis couldn’t really sit so he stood around and just ate, talking to Nico. Nico hadn’t seemed as interested with the conversation topic.

Nico had disappeared in the form of his Underworld magic when the rest of camp started moving for the camp sing-along songs and such. Travis had wanted to run too but he’d been too bruised and sore to do so, instead he had to endure the comments, jeers, laughter and jokes from everyone as he slowly made his way up the steps. He hadn’t been looking when he got to the top because he’d bumped into Michael Kahale, who had half-a-head in height over Travis.

Travis had made a weak kind of moan when Michael grabbed his arm to steady him. It was wear Clarisse had punched him and grabbed his arm to Indian burn him. Who even did that anymore?

“Careful there Kahale,” another Roman camper laughed as he approached them. He was sure the guy was named Dakota, he remembered the gossip going around about how the guy couldn’t drive despite already being seventeen. “You might break his arm if you aren’t careful. He’s a bit fragile.”

Travis glared, especially when he saw the little upturn at the side of Michael Kahale’s lips. The guy thought that insult was funny, and the fact that it took so much of Travis’ energy to even try and pull away was testament of that.

“At least I know how to drive,” Travis finally muttered angrily. The red-lipped Dakota’s eyes bulged and then his face heated up.

“Whatever,” Dakota said. Travis grinned. He got him. “It’s not that important.”

“Except when you knock out another _centurion_ and disobey an order, abandon that fellow centurion on the beach only to not even know how to drive away from the scene of the crime. How embarrassing.” Travis’s eyes flicked to Michael Kahale for a moment. There was a strange look in his eyes Travis didn’t really know but acknowledged. When the hand holding onto his arm began to lax Travis took the chance and slipped away.

“Hey Connor!” someone in the crowd shouted at him.

Travis answered the call, people got them mixed up all the time. He just reminded them afterwards before leaving. It never ceased to be interesting to see people’s reactions _after_ they said whatever they needed to say and found out it was to the wrong Stoll.

 

Travis woke up before dawn. His back was aching. He sneezed as he got up. He stretched for a bit to get the blood running.

Just before he was going to run he thought he heard something in the woods. Some monsters roamed the woods because it was the capture-the-flag field. The game was meant for real-time experience between monster attacks AND the objective.

He waited a bit, realizing he had no weapons with him. There was nothing. Travis was certain he could outrun it though.

“3… 2…” Travis paced his breathing, “1!” He ran through the woods, knowing the general direction. He spent enough time out here with Connor to be able to tell where he was going. Even longer to be able to track others during capture-the-flag. He didn’t shrink on his duty as a son of Hermes. Sure there was a lot of jokes and pranking, a lot of stealing stuff and making people laugh. The more important duties were learning the ins and outs of a place, memorizing a map of a town, knowing every nook and crevice. Some days Travis didn’t even sleep while studying maps of the different states, other times he fell asleep learning a language and woke up cursing in it to one of his cabin mates.

Funny thing was that despite being a son of Hermes he never really travelled anywhere. Just his family house and to camp. They didn’t exactly live in poverty but there was always a need in at one point to steal what they needed because they couldn’t afford it.

Travis made it to camp. For a moment he thought about going into the Hermes cabin and sleeping long into the afternoon. Instead he decided to check up on Alethea.

Most of the Apollo cabin was asleep except the ones on-call in the morning. No doubt there were going to be a lot of necessary healers in the infirmary because of last night’s capture-the-flag.

He moved to Will’s bed where he left Alethea. She was stripped of her clothes and put into pajamas. Maybe Will did that before going off to freak out over Nico.

Travis brushed Alethea’s hair from her face. She had rolled into the same position he left her in yesterday night. A dead sleeper apparently. That’ll be hard for a demigod.

“You’re lucky to have so many people care about you,” Travis found himself whispering. He knew that in most cabins since no one really knew each other outside of camp no one bothered to really try to get to know their siblings. It was a reason why he was grateful to have Connor. They would always have each other.

Travis yawned, got up and decided to head to his own cabin. He met Connor on the way, and then realized all the noise wasn’t the early risers but Fern.

“What’s up?” Connor grabbed him and pulled him to their bunk beds. Travis didn’t know what his younger brother mean. “Dude you look dead tired. Your eyes…” Connor rubbed his thumb against Travis’ eyes. He sucked in a breath, realizing it stung. Connor’s voice became low and dangerous like a year’s past before they left for camp. “Someone made you cry.”

Travis sighed. It was not good for his “manly” confidence that his younger brother felt the need to protect him.

“I’m fine,” he croaked, his voice breaking. He was too tired and dehydrated.

Connor took a water bottle from his bag and handed it to him. Travis welcomed the drink like it was nectar.

“What happened?” Connor asked in a low voice.

They both tried to avoid their half-siblings’ perked ears and curious eyes. For some odd reason a lot of demigods thought Connor and he were an item after it went around that Nico had a crush on Percy.

Travis spoke in the only language he knew none of their siblings had learned. The language Alethea spoke, the one that took Travis and Connor the few days they had with her to pick up on. So far they only know conversational speech.

 _“Nws xav…”_ Travis froze for a moment. He hadn’t had enough time to grasp all the particles and verbs. He was pretty sure he was using a neutral pronoun though. _“Nws xav kuv yog…”_ He pointed to Connor because he’d forgotten the word for ‘you’. Both of their rudimentary understanding of Alethea’s language seemed to work for their secret communication.

“He thinks-!” Connor covered his mouth before his whisper became a shout. His eyes were wide before it became a slanted murderous look. Travis almost winced. Almost. Connor spat a curse in French, the “language of love” which the Aphrodite and Venus children were hardwire to know. He had a feeling Connor did it because Michael Kahale was of that lineage. He was too tired to remind his brother not to offend the gods.

Instead of reprimanding Connor for it, Travis yawned and promised he was give some offerings in apology later that day.

Then Connor touched his hands, saw the dirt on his nails, the dust in his hair, felt how cold he was, and examined his bloodshot eyes. He frowned even deeper and with that authoritative voice he so loved to use with Travis since they were young, ordered him to bed. Travis took off his shoes as Connor stood and watched him prepare to sleep in bed.

Travis stripped to his muscle shirt and boxers then climbed into the lower bunk bed. Connor glared him to closing his eyes before stomping out the cabin.

Travis went to sleep feeling even more pathetic than ever.


	2. Naked and Exotic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were a lot of... comments (ahem from two-three people). I took it as "WRITE FASTER PLEASE WE'RE DYING" so here is the 2nd chapter. Please don't die.

When Travis woke up it was past noon. He made it in time for his archery practice, although it wouldn’t have mattered much if he was there or not. Most who had just returned from a quest are allowed to miss a day to recuperate. Despite limping he figured he would be fine if he took it easy the rest of the day.

Then he saw Will sulking at the archery practice. Everyone was gradually moving away from where he was shooting. His aim was worse than before. His release was either premature or he held on too late. Once, it actually shot towards the trees where some of the Roman campers were observing.

“Stop, just stop,” Travis groaned. He took the bow and arrow from Will. If he watched anymore he was liable to go blind from an arrow being shot into his eye. “What happened to your lovely-dovey mood from yesterday?” Travis asked. Will actually did better when he was in that kind of mood—having seen it when the way Will charged at the cyclopes yesterday.

Will scrunched up his face in confusion. Travis didn’t roll his eyes for dramatic effect. Sadly enough he had a feeling Will was a little blind when it came to Nico di Angelo, even when it came to his own not-just-friends feelings.

“Come on, Solace,” Travis groaned again.

“Give me back my bow, Stoll,” Will turned to take his bow from Travis. Travis deftly got out of his reach, incorporating him limps into ducks instead of a loss of balance. It seemed Will still noticed despite his attempt. Finally tired of trying to steal from a child of Hermes, Will snapped in frustration. “Travis!”

He grinned at his friend. “Come on, Solace. Bet you I can make it into the second ring without looking.” He closed his eyes and using Will’s bow and arrow drew his shot. He turned his head the opposite way of the targets and took a slow breath, releasing where he imagined and remembered the target was.

Travis looked, found he just barely made it into the second ring of the target. “See?” Will just sighed at him. “Now how about instead of archery, you and I go do some sparring?”

“That’s not the schedule, and you know it.”

“We just came back, pretty sure we get the _whole_ day to do whatever,” Travis said as he shoved his equipment and Will’s into a younger camper’s hands. They didn’t even need to be at camp anymore, really. “Besides, while walking here I heard some stuff. You gotta tell me about it.”

“No I didn’t kiss Nico di Angelo,” Will sighed as he followed Travis towards the cabins. He let himself laugh because he wasn’t asking that but Will was really defensive about it. “But tell you what, I’m going to treat your damn legs.” Will suddenly got under Travis’ arm, pulled him in and helped him like he was a cripple person, taking him towards the Infirmary instead.

“Great way to _not_ embarrass your best friend here,” Travis mumbled. People they walked by were now staring at them.

“Who said we were friends, again?” Will asked instead. This time Travis did dramatically roll his eyes. He added a forlorn audible sigh for the effect too.

 

Michael did not enjoy the time he had to spend with the Aphrodite children when the children of gods visited each other. The Greeks had their advantages and good points—a lot of them, actually. Michael liked the Greek camp, there was more freedom to it. He just didn’t like how he had to do what the Aphrodite children did when the demigod children in the Twelfth Legion Fulminata visited the Greeks. He preferred when the demigods had to visit Camp Jupiter. That way he could watch them sweat a little more.

He was sitting at the dock of the Canoe Lake with some of the legionnaires of his cohort when he spotted Travis Stoll running by letting out a carefree laughter. For the eldest he seemed to be without a care in the world.

Then he saw his praetor Frank Zhang run after him. “Travis!”

Travis Stoll was laughing as he climbed up a tree just over the lake. Michael felt lucky it wasn’t the older brother that seemed to have fallen for his “beauty” as a child of Venus. Then the both of them made eye contact and there was some dark kind of taunting in his eyes. The kid was sitting on the branch hanging over the water when he stuck out his tongue at Michael.

Shaking his head Michael stood up. He stripped off his shirt, which made the flirting naiads cooing at him even more. Michael knew the affect he had on others, it was the reason he worked hard to prove himself. He was more than just his mother’s charms.

“Graah!” Travis Stoll spluttered and fell into the lake. Michael stripped off the rest of his clothes and dived in, hearing the appreciative whistles (which weren’t from the naiads) just before hitting the water.

It didn’t take long to reach the Stoll brother. It did take a while to get him to stop kicking and squirming. Weren’t they supposed to know how to swim?

“N-No!” Travis shouted, kicking and hitting him. “Let go! I dropped the bow!” He was trying to dive for the lost article.

Swearing to himself Michael commanded, “Calm down. The naiads will retrieve them.” Saying that seemed to have had the desired effect, because Travis stopped kicking a fuss. He didn’t exactly like his prominent power with charmspeak (although not as strong as Piper McLean’s) but it had its advantages.

The naiads that had swam after him however, were fighting over who got to retrieve the bow and present it to him. He really didn’t care.

Michael threw the Stoll boy over the shore and then pulled himself out of the water. One of his fellow Roman campers brought back his clothes. He sighed angrily. He didn’t even need to be here, but he came anyways to see the kid who’d been spluttering and avoiding him with his starry-eyed gaze of love. He wasn’t here to save some moron from himself.

“Aw,” the Stoll kid groaned as he stood up and shielded his eyes. “I didn’t need to see that. Please tell me I didn’t just see that monster.” He started to back away. Michael glared between his member and Travis Stoll. “Damn now I’m going to need to find some nectar to wash my eyes with.”

“Please don’t waste the Infirmary’s supply of nectar for that stupid purpose,” another guy approached. Michael was certain his name was Will Solace. Golden hair, nice features, well-muscled, horrible with a bow but amazing as a healer—child of Apollo. Michael noted him as Connor’s confidante. They were unusually close but then…

“Ugh.” Travis Stoll backed away and then ran from him.

Michael turned to the lake and retrieved the bow from the dozens of naiads still fighting to hold a piece of the bow. He took it from them and presented it to Praetor Zhang. Luckily undamaged (except for the drenching) from all that tugging and clawing.

“Thanks Kahale,” Frank Zhang slapped him on the shoulder. Of the people he’d met, the only people of any size similar to him at all was Frank Zhang and Butch Walker. Frank Zhang he understood due to being a son of Mars. He’d seen the children of Ares, most of them were butch and buff. Zhang, as a child of Mars, seemed different. He was well proportioned, balanced. Perhaps that was due to the blessing of Mars he’d received. He looked less like the stumpy kid who rolled into the fifth cohort.

“Connor!” Will Solace was turned with his back to them shouting to the Stoll kid. Michael didn’t try to correct him which brother that was. Actually he had a feeling he should ask Will Solace about the brothers. Especially the nagging feeling that _he_ was wrong. “Go check on Travis!”

“That was Connor?” Frank Zhang spluttered at Will Solace.

Will turned to them. Then he sighed and shook his head. “Those two do that all the time.”

“What?” Michael couldn’t stop himself from asking. He was sure he knew the answer but he let the unpleasant feeling set at the bottom of his gut. Yesterday night’s events was starting to make more sense to him now.

“When you see Travis and you call him Connor, he answers. When you see Connor and calls him Travis, he answers. Then at the end of the conversation or when they’re leaving they say, ‘by the way, wrong guy!’ and walks off.” Will Solace sounded annoy but the smile in his eyes said different. He was rather fond of them. Actually, Michael had a feeling it was more than a fondness between the Stolls and Solace. Apollo and Mercury were known for their sort of friendship as half-siblings. It wouldn’t be surprised to see that kind of relationship extend to their children.

“How can you tell them apart?” Frank asked.

Michael was too busy feeling like he’d just missed something important. The one who had that starry-eyed look towards him the last five years wasn’t Connor Stoll the younger brother, but the older brother Travis. What an injustice. How could someone only a few months younger than Michael look like he was younger than him by an entire two years? Weren’t the Apollo children supposed to have that misleading youthful look?

“Travis actually shaves his head at the end of the summer when he goes home,” Will laughed. Now that was interesting. Shaved his head? Michael gave Will a speculative look. “He lets it grow out and comes to camp with the same hair as Connor. Connor only gets his hear trim since they both cut each other’s hair. Connor sucks at cutting hair so Travis just lets him shave it.”

That meant Travis was the accommodating one.

“Ah, I get what you mean,” Frank said as he shouldered his bow. “My mom used to do that to my hair.” There it was, that dim line of connection that Michael just _barely_ saw on occasion.

Michael felt like Frank and Will were close to each other in some way. He couldn’t quite see the connection yet though, but he had a feeling they had some kind of ‘comrade in arms’ sort of feeling. He was a bit bothered by this underlining friendship, but it didn’t seem to matter now for him. He was retiring after this weekend after all.

Instead Michael made his way to the infirmary. He sat down next to Piper McLean who’d hurt her leg in the capture-the-flag the other day and was getting it treated. She could walk with the crotches but needed the check-up. Of all the Aphrodite children he appreciated her the most, and he felt closest to her in that they both felt a need to prove they were better than their mother’s charm.

Not that he needed anything from her really, or that he missed his own family in Hawaii and saw her as a substitute. However she was slowly, in the last five years, becoming something like a sister to him.

“Hey Mike,” Piper smiled at him. He ignored that she used that nickname that he hated. It was perhaps because of that smile of hers.

She was very charming in a non-romantic way for him. Her smile put him at ease sometimes, as if she accepted him the way he was. He knew that was difficult for everyone, but apparently not her. He was known as the guy who let his sponsor and co-centurion shoot himself as “sacrifice” into a ball of fire that effectively killed the Earth mother.

The rumor that went around about him was the actual truth. Octavian—for some reasons the Greeks called him Augustus, as if to spite his namesake—had ordered him not to let anyone approach, and Michael stood guard as Octavian shot himself into the sky. He didn’t give Octavian a warning, or try to dissuade him.

Despite popular belief Michael neither regretted nor rejoiced over Octavian’s demise. He simply didn’t care. Octavian chose his path, and now Michael wasn’t bound to Camp Jupiter or his “sponsors”. His path was finally opened to him and he wasn’t going to let anyone put a wall between it and him.

It was funny that it was Piper McLean, a Greek, who neither judged nor pitied him. She simply smiled at him and enjoyed his company. Sometimes she even sought him out just to talk, or ask for fighting advice—which he enjoyed giving surprisingly. She seemed more comfortable asking him about fighting techniques than with her Greek friends. It was as if they each held a piece of the other and was finally able to give it back once they met.

“Your leg okay?” he asked her. He could hear the Stoll brothers in the back of the room, the curtains pulled to conceal them.

“Who are you asking?” Piper grinned. Michael sighed. He knew she knew. He’d actually told her once about the Greek camper who seemed to have fallen in love with him. “I’m not the only one with an injured leg.”

“You should’ve told me his name,” Michael grumbled quietly beside her. He knew where she was leading this.

Piper laughed. “Come on, Michael. Like I would’ve been able to tell the difference.” He raised an eyebrow to challenge that. She raised one back. Michael held his gaze on her and Piper broke. “Okay, okay,” Piper moaned, acting as though she was wounded and bleeding to death. She quickly recovered from her imaginary wound. “Travis is a little taller, and has a better body.”

“You’re just saying that,” Michael pointed out. Most male children of Venus were bisexual or pansexual, and when she found that out (at least of the Roman side) she put two and two together. She wanted Michael to date Con— _Travis_ Stoll. Gods, it irked to realize such a big and unbelievable mistake he’d made.

Piper waggled her eyebrows for a moment with that sly grin. “Okay, well he is taller.” Michael leaned back into the chair, waiting for her to give him more than height. At most the brother he had thought was Connor Stoll had two inches on the actual Connor Stoll. “He’s handsome.”

“They have almost the same face.”

“Yeah but you can tell the difference,” Piper chimed. She hummed for a big as one of the healers came by to do a bit of Greek singing.

The way medicine worked at Camp Half-Blood was dramatically different from Camp Jupiter. They did have ambrosia and nectar at their disposal, but as far as he knew none of the Apollo children at New Rome had the ability to heal by singing a hymn to Apollo.

“You should have corrected my misassumption, Piper McLean,” Michael said in a low and deep voice. He knew that she—and many others—were weak to that voice. She blushed intensely for a moment and he cracked a smile he normally didn’t show others. The kind she liked to describe as handsomely roguish (commenting that he would fell any person who saw it and should never do so in front of anyone).

“You should have just asked him for his name.” Piper straightened her back royally and cleared her throat. That was her way of standing her ground, which was a relatively weak defense as to why she let him believe Travis Stoll was Connor Stoll.

They were both at an impasse for a moment before they burst into quiet laughter. He didn’t have this with others. Piper was the only one. If she hadn’t approached him after their second capture-the-flag (when he forced the Aphrodite cabin to join the Venus children in the game) together he probably would never have opened up to her.

When their laughter finally died he met with her brown eyes. Eyes he was sure changed colors depending on the person and their mood, but he could see past the charm and power of Aphrodite. Her all-seeing, clear eyes were brown like her father’s. She was lovely even without her mother’s blessing of beauty.

He cupped his hand over her cheek, letting his long fingers thread through her brown hair. He smiled in a way he was certain she’d never seen before, because she was suddenly showing a sense of understanding with clarity in her eyes.

“ _Ce que j’ai avec toi est incomparable a ce que j’ai avec d’autre personnes, mon cheri_ _Pipile,_ ” he said to her softly. She took it as he intended, a goodbye within the camp. He would, if possible, see her somewhere in the States. It was a goodbye that he wouldn’t be returning here or to Camp Jupiter.

“What is _Pipile?_ ” she asked him softly.

”Ahem.”

They both turned to find Jason Grace and Connor Stoll standing in front of the bed, staring at them.

Michael dropped his hand slowly.

Connor and Jason both had their arms crossed over their chest in very similar stances. They were almost like brothers. Almost.

“It is how your name is pronounced in Hawaiian,” Connor supplied for her. Then Connor turned his gaze to Michael. “Exotic, aren’t you?”

Michael stood up slowly, giving a nod to Jason Grace before moving towards Connor Stoll. “I think someone who nearly drowned trying to steal a superior’s bow is rather exotic themselves.” By exotic he meant rare, which he knew would be taken as a negative connotation.

Connor’s glare turned heated.

“Frank Zhang is not my superior. No one is,” Connor spat angrily.

Michael shook his head. “Exotic indeed.”

He caught Connor’s punch and moved him quickly towards the door. He tossed him out and glared at him, the kid didn’t back down so he barked a few orders to a couple of Romans from his First Cohort and told them to take him to the other side of camp. No doubt he had less than five minutes, considering how fast Travis Stoll ran yesterday.

“Very exotic,” Michael said for Connor’s benefit when he turned to look at Travis Stoll—the brother whose name he’d mistaken—pulling the curtain back to see what was going on. “Very.” This time he meant it in the way it was supposed to be taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had help with the French from a college friend who speaks native (or is fluent).   
> Ce que j’ai avec toi est incomparable a ce que j’ai avec d’autre personnes, mon cheri Pipile = (Goggle Translate) What I have with you is incomparable to what I have with other people, my darling Pipile.  
> What I wanted to say in English: "What I have with you is like with no other, my cherished Pipile." But Google Translate and Human Translator have their own thoughts. The meaning still gets across.  
> Also, "Pipile" is the pronunciation of "Piper" not the translated version of her name in Hawaiian. I found this off a website so I'm not sure.   
> NOTE: Michael Kahale is NOT quad-lingual. He's hardwired for French and Roman, and acquired English, but only remembers bits and pieces of Hawaiian (which will no longer show up in this story... I think.)


	3. Maybe Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, but I couldn't lengthened it. I liked the ending.

Travis hated that he couldn’t run. Will had told him due to the strain from the uneven fall he took last night with Alethea, and the hard run he had yesterday that he was on bed rest for a week. He suspected it wouldn’t take more than a die in bed to heal. Will just wanted to “punish” him. Unfortunately he wasn’t about to go against those orders. When Will told him to stay in bed for a week it basically translated to: “try to get off this bed and I’ll send Clarisse La Rue after you.” After five years she still hadn’t gotten over those underwear-panties comment.

Michael Kahale pulled the curtain around his bed before sitting down on the seat Connor just vacated. He really wanted to make a run for it. Was he sweating? His hands felt sweaty.

Gods, just look at him. Michael was all chiseled and had no ounce of fat. At least it looked it. The way he sat, taking up more space than was necessary, knees apart, elbows on his knees and everything was just so… Travis was starting to wish he had artistic talent so he could capture the moment.

“You are Travis Stoll,” he stated. It was not a question.

Travis didn’t answer him. Michael moved a little closer, his legs spread outwards and bent back to hug the leg of the chair. Leaning forward Michael Kahale took Travis’ jaw in his hand again, moving his face to the right and left carefully. He couldn’t stop the chill that ran up against his skin. It was as if he was a product being inspected on the shelf.

“Tell me your name.” An order not a request.

Travis almost bit him. He’d just said his name, now he was _ordering_ Travis to give him his name? Just who did he think he was?

The centurion of the First Cohort of the Twelfth Legion, son of Venus, senior status, and hottest guy around— that was who he was. Why did Travis have to answer his own questions? Ugh, he felt even more conflicted with the actual person there.

“Travis Stoll,” he caved. His voice quivered. He would have appreciated if he’d answered with strength and confidence. Too bad he was just a unsatisfying-mystery-packet when it came to Michael Kahale.

Michael nodded, as if to say “yeap, you’re good enough”. As if Travis was some kind of thing to be satisfied with, but could be better.

“It seems I was given the misconception that your name was Connor Stoll and that you were the younger one,” Michael said matter-of-factly. Travis didn’t say anything. As utterly disappointed as he was about being thought of as Connor, he was still tongue tied and a coward when it came to trying to speak in more than ten-word sentences. “I apologize.”

Great, now Travis had an apologizing Roman in his hands. What was he supposed to do?

For a moment they sat in silence, Michael Kahale staring straight at him. All Travis could do after a moment of silence was drink his fill of the close-up picture he had of Michael. It wasn’t like he didn’t see tall, dark, broad-shoulders and muscled before. There was Butch after all, and others back where his mother was—where home used to be. Travis stared still. Took his time seeing every inch of Michael.

He sunk it all into memory, because gods only knew when was the next time he would see Michael again, if ever.

The way Michael’s hair was now cut short and stood up about three-inches from his head was amazing. Travis had never seen wet hair keep that volume.

Michael’s hair was thick and dark. His hairline didn’t split in the middle and was more prominent towards his right side. The way it was mussed suggested Michael had a tendency to touch his hair now and then. Especially from sweating inside a helmet or just too much working out. Mm…

Then he noticed Michael had a slightly fuller lower lip, but his lips looked really—

Travis moved his eyes down to his jaw line. It was rounded, but had strong angles, which was weird. It might just be that Aphrodite/Venus beauty thing. Travis found himself reaching to touch the stubble that Michael had started sporting in the last year or so. He didn’t really like it but he had a feeling a lot of people found Michael very hot with it.

Travis put his hand down, clutching against the edge of the bed instead. He followed down the strong neck, the vein visible beneath Michael’s tan skin. The smoothness of his shoulder muscles, down to his biceps and triceps. The bulge of muscle that scared everyone as much as it turned them on. Really.

Travis clutched harder against the mattress to keep his hands to himself. It had never felt so hard, not touching or taking something he wanted to. Stealing was more or less a skill he had used too often in the past it had become habit.

He suddenly wished he could steal Michael Kahale. Steal him from whoever it was that he liked, steal him from the Roman camp, from his obligations and loyalties, steal him from wherever, whoever and whatever and keep him to himself. Only he couldn’t. It would be wrong in so many ways.

And in truth Michael would never like him back for that. Essentially that was what mattered.

Travis stared at Kahale’s left forearm where there was a dove tattoo. The signifier that he was Venus’ child, and the SPQR that told Travis that Michael was— _is_ Roman. The lines of dashes that just about reached his Michael’s thick wrist to show the number of years. More than five, he knew.

He traced his eyes up the arm to Michael’s hard chest. His t-shirt was matted against his chest, he was still wet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, because Michael had just pulled Connor out of the lake and was still dripping wet. Connor had reported to him briefly that Michael had jumped in butt naked—which Travis regretted having not seen, and at the same thing felt fortunately he hadn’t witnessed it.

“I’m not feeling violated by that assessing burning gaze if you’re asking,” Michael replied. Travis felt his face heat up. How was it possible for someone to say something that should rile him up but instead made him blush?

“S-sorry,” he stuttered. _Oh gods, save me now from embarrassing myself further._ Travis bent forward to cover his face with his hands and his knees to block anyone from view.

“Yeap, you’re definitely him,” Michael chuckled. Travis felt himself tense up and even more heated than before.

“Who?” he squeaked out, even though he knew he shouldn’t have asked. Gods, why couldn’t he stop himself from being a fool? This always happened.

Only this moment was worse because it wasn’t just saying hello.

“The guy who has been staring at me with stars in his eyes for the last five years,” Michael replied nonchalantly.

Travis moaned. He was in literal pain. Someone kill him. Had he really been that obvious? Of course he’d been. Even he had admitted that he was just the other day on Bellerophon’s bus.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked him next, a slight tone of worry. “I heard you had a leg injury. You shouldn’t keep pressure on it.” Michael’s hands were suddenly on his feet, the bedcover the only fabric separating their skin.

A tingle of electricity shot through from his feet where Michael touched him up towards his heart. Travis had never found it harder to breathe. It was as if all his internal organs had malfunctioned for a good long moment.

Michael straightened out Travis’ legs onto the bed again. “It sounded like you’re seriously wounded. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Travis moaned again. He was wounded alright. In his pride. In his heart too.

Travis let himself fall back onto the bed, throwing his arms over his face. Where was Percy when he needed to be drowned? Maybe he could ask Nico to take him into hiding in the Underworld? Perhaps a dark monster-free pit would be nice.

“Hey, Travis Stoll.” Michael was suddenly leaning over him. “What’s your problem?”

Travis removed his hands and glared at Michael hanging over him. “My problem would be you. Why in the Fates do you even exist?” he snapped. Then he suddenly regretted blurting that out.

He knew better than to use the gods as a curse—though everyone did it, but there were always repercussions for using it in some bad way that offended them.

Michael suddenly smiled, his lips softly upturning. It could almost be defined as a taunting smirk as much as an erotic invitation. What in Hades was that? Travis took back whatever regretful thing he just said about using the gods to curse.

**_WHY IN THE FATES DOES HE EVEN EXIST?_ **

“What’s wrong with me being alive and here?” Michael asked.

He knew he was being baited. It was the poorest excuse of baiting he’d ever heard, but he took the bait anyways.

“Because you’re Roman!”

Michael hadn’t seem to have expected that, but it took him mere seconds to go from frustrated anger/confused to mildly amused.

“Is that right?”

“Yes!” Travis groaned. He turned his head from Michael’s face to look at the ceiling of the infirmary instead. “Gods, just why in all of demigod-dom did it have to be you—a son of Aphrodite—I mean Venus?” He sighed louder, not really caring who heard or was listening. He hoped no one was though.

“What’s wrong with being a son of Venus?” Michael asked, drawing back then.

Travis pushed himself back up. He glared angrily. “Aphrodite children are known for making people fall in love with them and then break their hearts. Venus children have the same potential.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re anything like them,” Michael said in a dark voice. Travis knew he’d just hit the guy’s pride. Michael was very similar in some ways to Piper McLean. He was unconventional and yet very powerful and well endowed.

However it was also true that because Michael always had people falling for him, he would never have given Travis a second’s thought. Of course he was now for some stupid reason. Perhaps he needed a favor with someone who was good at stealing or hotwiring a car.

“Tell me, in the five years you’ve known I’ve had a crush on you,” Travis urged him to speak up with a wave of his hand, “Did you ever, in some way, find it in your heart to like me a little?” he asked angrily. Michael’s lips were pressed hard together, his strong arms folded to his chest defensively. “Exactly. You can have any guy or girl you want Kahale, it doesn’t have to be me. I was just the awkward dude that happened to be a bit too plainly obvious.”

“You’re not the first-” Michael started to say.

“The first Greek demigod to say they like you?” Travis finished. He shrugged. He already knew that, but he damn well was the first Greek demigod to have fallen for him. “No, I’m sure in the last five years that I am not. You’re damn good-looking. Be proud of that fact. Some of us don’t have the luxury.” Travis meant the last part as a sarcasm. Michael frowned deeper, indicating the comment had bothered him. “But in five years you just sat around and let me go on by instead of pulling me aside and shooting me down. Do you know how twisted that is?”

“What do you mean?”

Travis rolled his eyes and threw himself back onto the bed. He rolled over and stuffed his face into the pillow, shouting profanity and random things into it. Not much was tangible.

He grumbled into the pillow about how Michael always had people throwing themselves at his feet that was why he never really bothered to find it a common courtesy to turn someone down. Even if that person hadn’t confessed.

The same problem was resulted with Will too. He was good-looking, very good-looking. He’d never actually have to approach a person to ask them out. Will simply just agreed and went on dates without even realizing they were dates until Travis and Connor told him. The same thing happened just the other day at the department store in Manhattan.

“Will you talk properly?” Michael sighed, making it obvious he was tired of Travis’ “childishness” (as many had called it before). “It’s difficult to understand or follow you when you’re throwing a tantrum.”

Travis turned and threw his pillow at Michael right away. “Get out!”

“What?”

“GET OUT!” Travis snapped. He breathed in and out heavily. “You don’t get to come to my infirmary bed and tell me I’m throwing a tantrum!” he yelled at Michael. The nerve. “You knew for five years and tormented me by saying nothing! Screw you Kahale!”

Michael stood up, throwing the pillow back onto the bed on top of Travis. It wasn’t an angry kind of throw.

“You could have confessed in the last five years.” His voice was leveled and paced.

“Why would I do that?” he shouted.

“Because I might have said yes.” Michael turned and walked away without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies.


	4. Love is a Privilege Too Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael gets both slightly vulgar as well as poetic in this chapter.  
> Also, hopefully this gives people some hints towards the prophecy?

Michael was getting ready to leave. As he picked up his rucksack he heard a commotion from the—ugh, Aphrodite cabin. He truly wished the cabin didn’t look so much like a… what were Piper’s words? _Barbie Doll House._ Five years and apparently Piper still couldn’t change much of the exterior.

As he stepped out a young camper ran over to him. “Michael!” he shouted. Aphrodite child. He recognized him as the one that nearly got killed in the capture-the-flag by a monster if Piper hadn’t saved him. “The Oracle’s saying the quest isn’t finished.” He pointed to the large group of crowd at the camp fire.

Michael stood at the back, not paying much attention, but just about everyone was fighting for a good look. He could see Will Solace arguing with Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Judging that a prophet should be revered not argued with—he’d been told this too many times by Octavian—Michael pushed his way through the crowd until they naturally started to move aside.

“I finished the quest!” Will shouted.

“The prophecy is not fulfilled,” the Oracle echoed once more in its monotone. It was always eerie seeing a prophet actually speak as though it had the voice of the gods. With augurs it was all stuff animals and deliberating the signs.

“HOW?”

Rachael Dare seemed to snap back to herself, shaking her head. It seemed they’d been doing this for some time in a loop. “Can’t say. It’s just not fulfilled.”

“But the quest…” Will’s voice trailed off. It looked like he no longer had the fight to argue about it.

Michael sighed. Even a seven-year-old would understand. He walked over to Will, because he didn’t want others to hear his explanation to Will Solace—a relatively respected camper in his own right.

“A quest is not always needed for a prophecy to be told,” Michael said in a low voice to both of them. Will glared at him. Apparently not happy. “Vice versa.” It was apparent when Frank Zhang received his quest from Mars five years ago.

“Yeah, that,” Rachel nodded.

“What is this prophecy?” Michael asked.

The two looked between them. It seemed they were deliberating between whether to tell him or not. Apparently with Greek prophecies—since they came “fresh” from the gods—if someone attempted to predict and understand the prophecy it would change the potential course into disaster.

Will grumbled and waved to allow Rachel to tell him the prophecy. In an even tone she repeated the lines:

 

_A child of truth in pools of lies,_

_The angel’s promise to hold the ties._

_The strength of will alone to heal,_

_What lies broke a single choice with seal._

 

Michael thought on it with the information he’d gotten from yesterday. “Alethea means ‘truth’ in Greek?” Michael asked. At least it was a Greek name that meant “truth”. He wondered why her mother had chosen to give her a Greek name. “She’s from the land of 10,000 lakes,” Michael figured, since he heard she was from Minnesota. “So, ‘pools of lies’, I assume.”

“Are you _really_ trying to figure out the prophecy?” Will asked skeptically. His face showed he was afraid of what might happen because Michael was doing so. “Don’t,” he finally said after judging that Michael would.

“The other three lines have not been fulfilled.” Michael wasn’t much for putting things in flowery terms. Reality was a lot harsher. Not that he lacked the skills to spew some “romantic poetry”.

“The problem is _why_ ,” Will groaned.

Michael shrugged. “The prophecy wasn’t given to me.” It wasn’t exactly his concern, he just wanted to break up the commotion Will Solace was drawing.

“Fine, whatever!”

 

The extended week (thanks to Praetor Zhang for extending it due to the Ambassador’s condition) was up and Michael was loading up one of the SUVs with the other legionaries when another commotion erupted. Greeks and their dramas. Inwardly sighing he closed the trunk door and saw the praetor wave for him and Dakota to follow him to the uproar.

When they reached the Big House it took a while to get there. Frank Zhang pushed through until the only thing left to do was to force people out of his way, which required barking and some help from the Ares cabin members to do so.

“What’s going on?” Frank huffed when he reached the center. Michael and Dakota followed him.

“Where’s Hazel?” Travis yelled, standing on crotches. He was standing in the middle with Percy Jackson, neither of them could say anything that sounded sane. “Where?”

“Right here!”

She squeezed through the cluster of people and fell into the clearing. Frank Zhang was quick enough to catch her before she landed on the ground. Michael marginally relaxed at that. He didn’t like seeing people as small and tiny as Hazel getting hurt.

“What’s wrong?” she breathed as she joined them. She stared at the ground where Percy was staring.

“Nico was leaving,” Travis said hastily.

“Yeah. He has a job,” Hazel said with a shrug. There was more she wanted to say it seemed but she didn’t say it.

“No! He was yelling at Will and stuff,” Travis countered. Michael had a feeling it was because he was panicking. “Nico blacked out and then he…” Travis pointed to the ground.

“They’re not in camp!” Connor’s voice shouted from somewhere. He entered the clearing from under someone’s legs. How someone his size managed such an agile feat was beyond Michael’s comprehension.

“Did you check the bath?” Travis asked. Connor nodded. “The strawberry field?” Connor nodded. Travis swore. “The forest?” he asked hopefully.

“Will would be running his butt back here if that was true,” Connor argued with a quirked smile on his lips. He seemed to guess from Travis’ emotions that the time was not for jokes and laughter.

“I can’t pinpoint where exactly,” Hazel said. She was already doing something or other while feeling the ground that had rotted and wilted. Her face had an intense concentration on it.

“Somewhere in Chicago. I’m being blocked.” Hazel pulled away. It was scary enough that it took spells and specific items to be able to pull Nico di Angelo off course, or to trace him. To watch another child of Pluto actually track him with those things was another thing.

Frank Zhang wrapped his arm around her thin body and helped her up, giving her his solid body for support. Michael was seeing it again. That underlining connection.

“Is Will going to be okay?” Connor asked Percy.

The answer was a shake of his head and a shrug.

“I don’t even… I can’t even…”

Then it clicked. Will Solace, Nico di Angelo. Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang. That was why Will and the praetor seemed to have a connection. There was a connection. The children of Hades and Pluto. Comrades in arms.

Michael glanced at Travis who looked paled. It wasn’t from getting up even though he was supposed to be off his feet. His leg strain should have healed by now with the constant care that Will Solace had been giving him. It was pale as in fear. Immense fear. The kind of fear of losing someone you loved.

Michael suddenly understood something he hadn’t wanted to understand. The reason why Travis was so hurt by Michael.

_Being loved is a privilege._

 

It was the 26th when Michael heard the news from the fifth cohort centurion, Hazel. Nico di Angelo was well, and Will Solace was on his way safely back to camp. For some reason a part of him let go, was relieved. Much like the time during Octavian’s funeral rites when it dawned on him that Octavian was truly gone and he was relieved. It felt oddly similar, like something that he had no control over was finally over.

Michael went back to packing. He’d finished the police academy last December in New Rome, and was being stationed in Salt Lake City. Octavian was no longer his sponsor, but Michael suspected his family (who had continued to sponsor him) still largely blamed Michael for allowing him to die. They’d heard the rumors— _the truth_ (which Michael didn’t deny). Part of him knew they wanted to have some kind of connection to him, a sort of leash, a hold to put over him.

Funny how he was well respected as the half-sibling of the ancestor of Romans, son of Venus. Ironically he had no real power or status. Michael wasn’t going to let anything stop him from what he wanted. No matter how far or detached (or attached) Michael wanted nothing more to do with New Rome or the Roman camp. He didn’t reject it, but he simply wanted to live his life without being revolved around it. Something he’d once thought Jason Grace had wanted to do until he became _pontifex maximus_.

“It is regretful to lose you, Michael Kahale,” Reyna spoke in her calm voice as she approached. Michael glanced over his shoulder where he was zipping up his duffle bag. He didn’t need much besides his weapons and the few articles of clothing and important items. The essentials. The rest he was fine with leaving, since they were all provided by his sponsor.

“Your leadership will be missed,” Frank said solemnly. Both of them looked very serious. Too overly so. Reyna tended to be serious but Frank was different, he was never serious in a no-nonsense kind of way. Frank was mostly just a well-disciplined kind of guy.

“I am not sorry to leave,” Michael said.

The two broke into smiles. Frank slapped him on the shoulder again and Reyna stepped forward. It seemed she was confused between giving him a handshake or something else. Finally she settled on just stepping into his arms and giving him a hug.

“We will miss you terribly,” Reyna said as she drew away again and recovered her composure.

“If you ever need help,” Frank said as they clasped their hands over the other’s forearm. Then Frank pulled him in for a brief hug before pulling back. “Just call.”

“Keep in touch.”

Michael simply nodded.

“I mean it,” Reyna said in a harder voice. “I know that you already know this, but despite the former augur’s heroic death his family still blames you for it. If they try anything you call us.” Michael didn’t think either of them, despite their position, had the power or money to oppose his sponsors— _former_ sponsors.

“Promise,” Michael said firmly. If anything he suspected that Reyna would at least rain down arrows of (“traded”) Greek fire on that obnoxious family.

A shiver suddenly went through him. An eerie, female hollow monotone echoed: _“the angel’s promise to hold the ties.”_ He shook. The prophecy couldn’t have been about him. He didn’t know in what context the prophecy was even given but it sure wasn’t about him. Couldn’t be.

As he drove away in the car the first cohort had chipped in together to buy him Michael had never felt more bothered and unnerved. The prophecy, although he’d never heard it said in the voice of the Oracle of Delphi, kept repeating the prophecy in his mind.

 

_A child of truth in pools of lies,_

_The angel’s promise to hold the ties._

_The strength of will alone to heal,_

_What lies broke a single choice with seal._

 

It was like a broken record that Michael didn’t know how to stop or turn off. Listening to music on the radio didn’t tune it out either. _“Child of truth”_ it kept echoing, pestering him with _“the angel’s promise”_ and _“a single choice”_ but none of these could have meant him. How could it?

By the time Michael reached the small little apartment he’d rented—which was through the referral of his former sponsors—he was going crazy. Michael decided to take a long shower, and sat under the lukewarm spray of the shower for nearly an hour. Even the fact that the shower only had “lukewarm” and “ice cold” as its hot and cold didn’t bother him. One reason was that he was too preoccupied to be bothered. Secondly, Michael was used to these kinds of things despite having spent time in the most prestigious (rich) cohort.

It was necessary for Roman demigods to be trained by the Wolf Goddess to know hardship and survival. No one lived in comfortable pleasant luxuries the way the Greek campers did.

As he laid on the old mattress provided him by the super of the old apartment complex, Michael’s usually rather clear head began to wander. He had his first day the morning after, which meant he had too much time on his hands.

He stared at the old ceiling, listening to the noise of his neighbors. Yelling. Screaming… Fucking. Yeah, Michael was used to those noises too. Venus legacies and Venus demigods were known for their uninhibited sex drives and tendencies which apparently correlated to their fighting skills (or so some speculated).

Funny how Travis Stoll had been right about that aspect of Venus children. There weren’t a lot of them as in the Aphrodite cabin, but collectively with the Venus legacies there were many. Sex wasn’t a big thing with the Romans, although same-sex relationships had a tendency to be superior-junior type relationships. Love on the other hand—Michael had never met someone of Venus descendent who’d ever truly been in love or loved at all the way Piper McLean and Jason loved each other.

Michael lifted the necklace he wore around his neck. For a moment he smiled, staring at the bead. The first summer after Gaea’s defeat the Roman demigods were presented the summer beads as a show of friendship by the Greek demigods. He smiled, staring at the single bead on his string. Travis Stoll—at the time he’d thought he was Connor—had given this to him.

He remembered there being some kind of fight between the Aphrodite girls to present him a bead necklace. While that was happening Travis had walked up, shuffling his feet when he stood in front of Michael. He’d blushed from his neck to his ears to his entire face. Shivering like a solitarily autumn leaf against a winter wind, Travis had reached up on his tiptoes (although Michael wasn’t that tall in comparison to Travis’ height) and hung the necklace around his neck. Then he’d run off at what felt and seemed like lightning speed.

Michael found himself smiling at the memory. At the time Michael had already knew of Travis’ starry-eyed love for him. Yet he’d also felt a need to have a dalliance with him, as if Travis was some wine bearer girl in ancient times who didn’t matter in the overall scheme of things.

He did mean something. He was important. Travis was the cabin head of the Hermes cabin alongside his brother. He was to be respected. Michael kept his hands to himself that night and for every time Travis had tempted him with his scattered sentences that never had more than ten words, his quiet and nervous hellos, those quirked smiles and the quickly ducked head to hide a blush when they passed each other…

Michael had waited for Travis to approach him. Waited five years. He hadn’t realized between those shy smiles, stuttering words, and not-so-well-hidden observations that he’d been waiting at all. Perhaps he’d just anticipated what kind of confession he would receive from a man. He’d received plenty from both gender before, but he always saw Travis Stoll as a bit more passionate, a bit more sincere, a bit more… truthful.

But then he was a child of Hermes. He was infamous for his pranks, and stealing, “illegal” dealings at the camp shop, lock picking, and all around mischief. Michael had rarely, if ever, heard anything meant to compliment him aside from his combat skills. Then Michael wondered if what he’d heard was even true. For the last five years he’d thought Travis was Connor, and whenever he broached asking anything he always asked about Connor. All the information could be wrong.

Although… Michael thought some more. Connor and Travis were always mistaken for each other. Now it was slightly easier to tell them apart if someone bothered to see the differences. Perhaps what had been reported and told to him might have been what everyone generally thought of both brother.

Michael flipped onto his stomach, his arms pulled under the pillow. He tried to stop himself from thinking again too much. He needed rest after such a long drive.

The noise through the thin walls was nothing unusual to Michael. Even New Rome had its poor sides, both in taste and in status.

Michael checked his watch when he heard the woman shout before her climax. 11:27PM. First orgasm. Michael had a feeling some very uncomfortable silence from the room below him was going to settle on that room.

There was silence as all Michael heard was the man’s grunts and the bed squeaking from the thrust. Seven minutes later it was silent and all Michael could hear was the loop song from a DVD menu (someone fell asleep watching a video upstairs), and the yelling from the next door neighbor who shared a wall with had quieted but he could hear the soft whimpers against his wall.

Then there was some argument in low voices and a door slamming. Michael shook his head.

The guy took too long.

…

Michael felt like the pitiful feeling he got was familiar. After thinking for a moment he knew what it was. It was similar to the feeling from when he walked out of the Greek infirmary from Travis Stoll. He had thought it a pity Travis never confessed, that he took too long.

It was too late.

Michael turned onto his back again. He checked the time only to realize that what he thought had been 11:27PM was actually 1:27PM when he checked his digital watch earlier.

He decided he needed to sleep so he closed his eyes and turned onto his comfortable side.

He was just drifting to sleep when his own words floated into his mind, but by then he was too tired to argue them.

_“Because I might have said yes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not good at drawing but I hope to do some illustrations to add to my chapters for both "Angel of Solace" and "Angel for a Traveler" so... PLEASE BE PATIENT with chapter updates.


	5. A Child

It was the first week of April. Spring break. Michael decided he hated it. Families road-tripped over to camp, or spend the week, college students went wild with drinking parties (at least the ones who didn’t go anywhere else). Then there were too many children and teens of any age everywhere. It was like being in the Greek camp, where mischief or annoyance was just anywhere and everywhere.

Michael was off the clock. He was walking down fifteen blocks with his uniform in his duffel bag. It was less than thirty minutes to get to his apartment building. As he passed a house a third of the way he heard blaring music and shouts. He thought to ignore it. He was too tired to be a cop and even more tired calling it in.

“Where’s the Lingo Wiz?” he heard an overly loud question thrown into the air. Michael wondered where in the 21st century someone came up with that nickname—…title? Whatever it was supposed to be considered.

“Hey dude!” Some random guy suddenly jumped on him. Michael was close to swinging at the drunk man but held himself back. It wouldn’t look good for a police officer to be reported having attacked a citizen—drunk or not. The media on police brutality has been stifling in the last year. Longer if anyone actually bothered looking at the accounts more closely.

“Come on man! You can’t be going yet!”

Michael found himself being ushered into an overcrowded two-floored house. It was either a fraternity house party, or a bunch of guys who rented it throwing what seemed like a frat party. As he was following the man with his arm around Michael’s neck he noticed all the curious stares.

While at it he started straightening fire hazards, telling people to go smoke outside, told others to blow out candles (why the hell were there candles at a drinking party?), and took beer bottles from those who looked too inebriated to continue. Michael found himself standing at a ping pong ball, standing behind the crowd as the man whose arm had been hooked around his neck detached from him and shoved through the group.

He knew the game.

The person who was apparently winning—aiming for a dynamite (which would win the round for him) with his last ping pong ball seemed to be concentrating very hard. That seemed hard to do as his opponent was more clear-headed.

Just as he was about to leave he took a second look at the less inebriated person. Michael was still standing in sheer shock when the game ended.

“Stoll!” Michael hissed as the cheers went up, the person who had the lead had lost.

He pulled Travis from the crowd, finding his way out through the back door somehow. As they made their way around the back, Michael didn’t even stop to think about what he was doing. At least not until they were on the front lawn and Travis had finally dug in his heels and pulled them to a stop.

“The Hades are you?” Travis slurred. Michael realized Travis looked clear-headed but he wasn’t. Michael could hear the slightly labored breath, the way he slightly shook, and could tell with the way Travis was squinting that he couldn’t quite focus or see clearly.

“Travis Stoll,” Michael tried to keep his voice even. The way Travis looked suddenly defensive and aggressive told Michael he was anything but at the moment. “What are you doing in Salt Lake City?”

“Spring Break.”

“Who did you come with?”

Travis shrugged. “Why in Zeus’ name would I tell you, asshole?” Travis tried to pull his arm away. Michael only just realized from the way Travis was struggling that his grip was too tight. He didn’t let go or lessen it. In fact he clamped on even tighter to Travis’ forearm.

“Got someone to hide?” Michael asked with the accusatory interrogative tone he’d mastered in his few months on the force. He was used to this aggression towards cops.

“I’m by myself.”

“Good.”

Michael didn’t want to waste time handing him over to the people irresponsible enough to let him drink. Michael was 22 dammit, that meant Travis was at least a year younger.

“Wha-?”

Travis hadn’t expected Michael to lift him over his shoulder. A grown man picking up another grown man and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of flour? That just wasn’t done. Now it was, because Travis Stoll might be a grown man but at the moment he was a child.

He didn’t care if he got catcalls and teases from the people who witnessed them leave the property. Michael carried Travis across two blocks until Travis’ kicking against his abs finally got annoying. It was impossible to continue when he could feel Travis’ drunk erection against where his shoulder and arm connected—jutting at his armpit.

Groaning loudly Travis pushed at Michael’s shoulder, which didn’t budge. He liked that it seemed to further annoy Travis who probably hadn’t coherently taken the time to notice who he was dealing with.

“I hate you!” Travis shouted even louder, if that was possible with how tired his voice sounded. He kicked at the ground, apparently aiming for Michael’s shin. His perception was off. “You’re just like that… that…” Travis seemed to have lost his words in a drunken rage. He kicked again, this time managing to swipe the outside of his shoe at the top of Michael’s combat boots. Travis groaned louder in frustration. “That stupid Narcissus’ face!”

Michael shook his head, unable to stop the smile pulling at his face. He grabbed Travis’ hand, in a way one held onto a child’s hand, and pulled him along. Travis went without much of a fight but he complained the rest of the ten blocks about some idiot demigod who must have such short memories and attention spans as naiads and (certain “Roman fauns”) that he couldn’t even say goodbye properly.

Michael had a feelinh—as he urged Travis into his apartment—that Travis was talking about him. Michael didn’t mind. In fact that made him smile. It meant Travis had been thinking about him.

“Keep your hands here,” Michael instructed him in a soft tone as he put Travis’ hands on his shoulder. Travis continued grumbling as Michael attempted to pull off his hooded pullover sweater. He’d just gotten Travis to pull out his head when Travis wobbled and fell backwards.

Taking an urgent step forward, Michael let go of the bottom of the bunched sweater to grab hold of Travis. They were in a relatively compromising position seeing as Travis was half-laid onto his king-sized bed, and Michael had a knee on the mattress, stretched forward into very close proximity of the slighter man.

Travis’ face looked flushed, though it was hard to gauge entirely based on the starlight falling into his dark studio apartment’s windows. Michael corrected Travis into a sitting position as he smoothly put space between them.

Michael finally stripped Travis of his sweater, throwing it onto one of the old wooden chairs at the kitchen table only a few feet away.

“Are we going to have sex now?” Travis mumbled. It wasn’t an actual invitation, but Michael had no doubt if he pushed Travis would accept it.

“No,” he answered. Even being who—what—he was, Michael knew sex without consent was not fulfilling. It had been a long time since Michael had done anything in that department though.

“So you’re just some hero who came to save me from a bunch of strangers?” Travis asked. He tried to stand up but Michael pressed a hand on his shoulder and kept him sitting. He seemed to give up standing after that without much thought. “Did you think I was gonna get raped by a woman for wanting dudes?” There was a soft, hollow laugh before Travis sighed. He looked tired. Too tired.

“Lie down and get some sleep,” Michael said as he led Travis down onto the bed by pushing against his shoulder. Travis did as he was told and laid down on his side at the edge of the bed. “I’m going to bring a trashcan over in case you need to puke.”

“Are we gonna share a bed?”

Before Michael could answer there was a knock at the door. Somehow he knew there was going to be another problem.

When he opened the door the child staring up at him with watering eyes hiccupped before trying to whimper out why he was there. Michael didn’t really need to know why little Ernest was standing at his door this late at night.

“M-Mommy said…”

He knew exactly what his mother said. He also knew exactly what his father said. With a sigh he held out his hand to Ernest, who put his little tiny brown hand into his. In his other arm, the cigarette butt burned one, was a stuffed wolf. It was the one Michael had bought for him back in January during his first week in Salt Lake City.

Michael crouched down instead of leading the boy in. He leveled his gaze with the boy.

“It’ll be fine,” he said in a soft, soothing voice. The boy was still sniffling, nodding his head. “I will always be here when you need me.”

Ernest frowned for a moment, tears welling up. “Promise?”

Michael didn’t give it a second’s thought. “Promise.”

 _“The angel’s promise to hold the ties.”_ Michael felt himself bristle from the echo in his head. It sounded so much closer.

“A child of truth in pools of lies…” Travis’ hoarse voice was softly reciting. “Truth…”

Ernest let his tears fall—not that he’d been doing a good job holding them in—and ran into Michael’s arms. He held onto the tiny human being, picking him up as he stood to his full height.

“BRAT!” Michael heard the shout from his neighbor then, standing at the door, half of him in the hallway. He sounded angry, he looked even more so.

He was tall, and perhaps handsome once a long time ago. On one forearm was a scar that had healed over what used to be a tattoo, which was hard to see in the dark. The man had let himself grow fat and thick, his dark eyes something of an evil he’d seen in many—but all were related to gods. This one was not.

Ernest whimpered, clutching his tiny arms around Michael’s neck.

“He’ll be staying over,” Michael called to his drunk—perhaps drug withdrawn—neighbor.

“It’s late,” the man growled. He knew the man didn’t like him, but the man didn’t want to oppose him either. Michael had been careful about keeping his occupation a secret (although the super knew). It wouldn’t take longer for someone to find out, but if anything Michael didn’t really care.

“Yes, it is,” Michael replied in an even tone. He didn’t bother trying to stare the man down. Intimidation was something more of a last resort.

The man didn’t argue. “Have him back in the morning. He’s got school.” Michael nodded, entering his own apartment, closing the door and putting on the deadbolt. He knew the deadbolt made Ernest feel better.

“It’s spring break,” the boy muttered against Michael’s neck.

“I know,” he said, soothing Ernest by rubbing circles into his back. He could feel the tense little body pressed against his chest begin to relax.

“I don’t like him.”

“I know.”

Michael walked slowly to the kitchen table, sitting down. He kept Ernest on his lap as he untied his shoes with one hand and took them off.

“Can I stay up late?” Ernest asked immediately when Michael stood up again.

Michael shook his head. The boy frowned. “You’ve gotta get back early in the morning.”

“I don’t want to.”

Michael knew he wasn’t whining. He was afraid of what might happen—what would happen when he was back in the apartment next door. His mother wasn’t any better, but she at least sent him to Michael during her late shifts.

“How about I tell you another adventure story before bedtime,” he suggested, putting Ernest down on the chair along this time. He moved his shoes to the foot of the bed and went about his usual routine.

“Okay!” Ernest perked up.

“Go brush your teeth.”

Ernest shot out of the chair towards the single sink Michael had in his apartment. Ernest moved the closest chair from the table to the edge of the sink and reached for his little dinosaur toothbrush in his little green cup. Ernest knew where most of Michael’s daily essentials were so Michael didn’t bother telling him anything.

Ernest also had his own little amenities in Michael’s apartment, because he spent a good portion of his time with Michael after school. That was unless Michael was picking up someone else’s shift, which happened a lot. He suspected that was because of his former sponsors.

“Wash your face,” Michael sighed out next. Ernest hustled back to the sink to haphazardly wash his face. “Your pajamas.”

Ernest frowned. “I don’t have any.”

Michael frowned. “Who was the one that made me buy him pajamas last weekend proclaiming he was going to live with me forever?” Ernest just grinned. Michael sighed as he watched Ernest skip over to Michael’s dresser and pulled out the lowest drawer.

He already knew saying what he said would put a smile on Ernest’s face. He hadn’t suspected he would be so glad to see it.

“What about you, Michael?” Ernest looked up to him from where he knelt.

Michael tossed his t-shirt into the old laundry basket that had a cracked handle. This he’d gotten from the old lady across the hall. She seemed to think Michael was in dire need of financial support, as old and aged as she was.

“You ask every time,” Michael huffed. He was bare chested, and Ernest always scrunched up his face whenever he saw how Michael had no hair over his chest. He did have a beard—he was growing that—but he didn’t have hair on his chest which was weird and gross apparently. Most women loved it.

“Isn’t it weird to sleep in your underwear only?” Ernest asked.

Michael wasn’t going to answer that, just like he hadn’t answered the first time it was asked and all twenty-something times after. Michael wasn’t going to tell Ernest that he normally slept nude except when Ernest was sleeping over (or he was sharing sleeping quarters with others).

Instead he turned to the oversized child sleeping on his bed. “You too.” Michael kicked the bed to jut him awake. Travis groaned and slowly got up, looking as if he was going to hurl and faint at the same time.

“Get in bed.”

Travis was about to collapse back onto the bed but Michael grabbed him in time. Travis let himself slump against Michael, leaning his face into the crevice of Michael’s neck.

“I meant Ernest.” He waved the kid into the bed. He ran for the wall side. Michael had long since moved his bed from the wall he shared with his neighbor’s to the wall that faced outside in the opposite end. It made Ernest feel better to be as far from that apartment as physically possible.

“Who’s he?” Ernest asked chirpily. Michael helped Travis to the sink and fished out a new toothbrush from the top cabinet of the kitchen-ish area in his studio.

“Remember what we talked about that one time,” Michael said ambiguously. He watched from the corner of his eye as Ernest started straightening the bed linens.

“Which time?”

Michael turned his attention to Travis lazily brushing his teeth. Giving up waiting on him to do it properly, Michael approached Travis from behind and took the hand holding the toothbrush. He moved his other hand to the top of Travis’ head so he could bend the guy’s head back to help him brush his teeth more diligently.

Travis tried to say something but Michael shushed him. He needed to concentrate on brushing thoroughly.

“Split and rinse,” Michael said when he was finished brushing Travis’ teeth for him. It seemed Travis was a bit more sober. He still seemed tipsy.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ernest asked. He tried to sound courageous but Michael knew better. Ernest was afraid of people in any sort of state or habit similar to his father.

“He’s drunk,” Michael answered truthfully. He saw Ernest visibly freeze up.

“I’m not drunk,” Travis grumbled angrily. His voice was still hoarse and scratchy. “Just… mm…” Travis groaned as he leaned his back into Michael’s chest for support.

“Go to bed, both of you.” Michael watched Travis trot over to the edge of the bed and lie back down.

Michael joined them when he fished out a pair of sweats from his dresser and swapped them from the jeans he’d been wearing. Ernest didn’t comment on it. Instead as Michael approached Ernest moved closer to the wall, afraid of Travis at the edge.

Michael lifted the cover systematically folded back as a triangle. He slipped into the middle of the bed between the two children then pulled the blanket over Travis’ body at the edge.

“Go to sleep,” he told Travis. Then he turned onto his side and Ernest immediately buried himself against Michael’s bare chest. Instead of saying anything, he just gently rubbed circles into Ernest’s back and began to tell Michael about one of the capture-the-flag games he’d played at Camp Half-Blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. so I know this is posted but I'm still drawing.


	6. To Hold

Travis woke up from the strangest dream. The one where there was a very good looking guy at a drinking party. He swooped in out of nowhere and swept Travis away. In the dream they didn’t do anything but cuddle, which oddly felt nice. Too bad it was only a dream and guys at frat parties usually aren’t into cuddling with other guys.

When Travis rolled out of bed he realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes—and that he wasn’t in his hotel room. Panic took over for a good long moment when his aching head finally cleared.

“Finally awake?” a deep voice asked and a shiver assailed him, making parts of him warm and parts of him cold. Travis didn’t want to look as he got off the floor he’d been sprawled on. “You would think after a few months you’ll be more mature.” The chastising tone ruffled Travis, it made him both angry and embarrassed.

He didn’t say anything back so silence hung between them. He hoped to gods he was still dreaming. Probably not. His dreams involving the man never resulted in this kind of encounter.

“You gonna look at me any time soon?”

Travis really didn’t want to look. He kept his gaze lowered to the hardwood floor. How was it in all the States, in all the cities and towns, the one that Travis chose to go to and let go of everything he had to meet the one guy who had taken it all? How was Travis supposed to move on from him if he never had the time to heal?

“I’ll punish you.”

Travis bristled. He took a hesitant step back to keep far from reach. It seemed Michael hadn’t liked that idea because a strong hand grabbed his own and pulled him forward. The other hand had a lock on his jaw and forced him to look up the few inches they had apart in height.

“Better.” Michael seemed to be searching for something in his face. Travis was stuck in his dark eyes. Aphrodite children sometimes had this dual coloring in their eyes, like Piper McLean’s eyes were sometimes brown or bluish-green. It was strange that Michael’s were always so dark and brown that they were almost black.

“I need to go,” Travis said instead of reply. He welled up with a bit of pride that he didn’t stutter or shake when he spoke those words. He was usually a mess of speech when it came to speaking with Michael.

“No,” Michael said quietly, his eyes looking somewhere between Travis’ cheek and lips. He felt a strange alertness in that specific area, seeing the soft and unwavering gaze on him. Travis wanted to move. Away. Across the room. To the next county. Anywhere.

“I…”

He didn’t have a chance. Michael’s hand on his jaw tightened just a little to give Travis a silent message not to speak. Then Michael spoke in that soft, low voice of his that sent trembles across Travis’ skin. He felt his knees weaken.

“You can stay,” he said. Travis felt the entire world revolving all of a sudden. Like he wasn’t where he was standing. Was that how his father felt when he traveled across the world delivering messages? Like he was no place and all places at the same time? Perhaps not in the same situation he was in though.

“I can’t,” Travis managed to mumble. He tried to put his gaze anywhere else but anywhere else in his current capacity was all parts of Michael Kahale, gorgeous man and all.

Michael’s expression hadn’t changed. His eyes slowly turned to the left and Travis had a feeling Michael was no longer looking at anything but his lips. Which made Travis hope for something and hate himself for expecting more than what should be expected of a child of the love goddess.

“You can stay,” he repeated in the same deep quiet tone and volume. Michael seemed focused and yet cryptic, and Travis didn’t know what to feel. “You can stay here.” Michael didn’t move the few inches they had apart, he pulled Travis in.

One arm wrapped around his waist and pushed him forward, pulling him up so his hips pressed against his own hips. The kiss was not soft despite how soft Michael’s voice had been. Everything about the man was hard—except his voice and the hands touching him.

He moaned when Michael’s tongue entered his mouth and immediately rubbed the roof of his mouth, molding itself to it. And when he thought Michael would pull his tongue away instead Michael had decided to tangle his with Travis’ own. Maybe Travis pressed closer or struggled to get away, he didn’t remember. He did remember finding a tongue kiss very gross. He also remembered that what was going through his head the moment Michael’s lips touched his was that he needed to get away.

But then Michael’s hands started touching him… all over.

Travis was only briefly aware that his boxers were still on (that he wasn’t completely naked didn’t seem as important that he was mostly exposed in front of the guy he had a crush on for over five years). Michael’s hands smoothed themselves around Travis’ butt cheeks, and at first he was afraid Michael was going to do that thing where people touched each other’s butts for some stupid reason, but he didn’t. His hands seated themselves underneath Travis’ cheeks and lifted him up, smoothing Travis’ thighs apart with his strong hands to put himself between Travis’ legs.

“S-…uh…“ Travis wanted to tell him to stop, but when he pulled their lips away Michael immediately sucked on his neck. Travis had always thought that was weird too, and slimy, but for some reason Michael was making him burn. Maybe because what he was doing was between sucking and licking and kissing at the same time. Travis didn’t really know how that worked.

Then it suddenly all stop. A gradual cooling of the intensity Michael had as he slowly stopped his ministrations. Travis was slowly lowered back onto his feet, only when Michael let go he found himself collapsing.

For a moment he thought he’d face-planted on the hardwood floor. Then he realized the heat wasn’t from him but from Michael. He could hear the other man’s heartbeat, and it was running just as wildly as his own.

“Stay.”

It sounded like an order. Seconds later he found himself seated on the edge of the bed watching Michael pick up his duffel bag and leave the apartment. He heard the lock turn seconds later and the sound of Michael’s footsteps receding.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there just staring at the door, but he heard a hesitant knock and realized he was really cold. The knock came again. Travis got up to answer it only to remember he was only wearing his boxers. He looked around until he found his clothes neatly folded on the table. He picked them up and hastily put on his jeans, then went for the door as he tried to slip on his muscle shirt.

When he opened the door no one was there. Then he heard a little whimper as someone shuffled their feet. He looked down and saw a little boy holding a stuffed animal and carrying a school bag in his hands.

“Are you okay mister?” the boy asked him in an almost whisper. His voice sounded dry and a bit raspy.

Travis was confused but from the way the boy kept shuffling backwards he might have looked angry.

“I’m okay.”

“You don’t look it.”

“I just got up.”

“Oh.”

There was silence.

“So are you okay mister?”

Travis rolled his eyes. He crouched to his knees to level his gaze with the boy. “What’s with the backpack?”

“Dad told me to go to school today,” the boy frowned. “But it’s spring break.”

“So what did you do?”

“Walk around,” the boy shrugged.

“That’s dangerous.”

“It’s safe.”

“No, that’s dangerous.”

The boy didn’t seem to think so. He pulled both arms close to tightly hug the wolf-plushy.

“Is there something you need?” Travis asked him then.

“Dinner.”

Travis must’ve made some kind of face because the boy’s entire face lit up with a smile. A cheeky kind of smile he knew all too well. Connor had that smile every time he spontaneously thought up a new prank—or tried to act innocent, or both in one instance.

“I don’t live here.”

“I know that,” the kid grumbled. Apparently he didn’t seem all that impressed with Travis. That was fine. Alethea wasn’t all that impressed with him either, though she was less annoyed with him now. He wouldn’t be able to say the same about Connor.

The kid frowned. “Michael’s not here?”

“Is he supposed to be?”

The kid shrugged. “Cuz he was worried…” The kid’s eyes turned downwards. He kicked the ground for a bit. “He was worried you might get sick or something worse.”

“He told you that?”

The kid shrugged.

“So you’re going to be my babysitter,” Travis said then, wrapping his arms around his knees. The kid looked back up at that moment then, as if Travis had just said something unbelievable. Actually… was that some kind of acknowledgement in his eyes? Travis had never had that look aimed towards him before.

“Can I?”

“I thought that’s what you came here to do.” Travis purposely lifted an eyebrow in a sort of challenging way as he used a questioning tone. The kid just nodded enthusiastically and slipped his way into the apartment. Travis stood up and locked the door behind him.

“So food,” he said when the kid dropped his backpack at the foot of the table. Travis pulled on his t-shirt left on top of the table. He draped his sweater onto the back of the chair across from where the kid sat. The kid seemed just a little too short for the table.

“Yeap,” the kid said. His legs were swinging. Perhaps he was excited for food. “Michael’s good at cooking.”

Travis tried not to sigh or roll his eyes as he opened the refrigerator. Like he needed to know all about the amazing Michael Kahale, Roman demigod of Venus, the guy who got asked out every time he showed up to camp, _“centurion of the First Cohort of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata”,_ who had such a record he could have continued into a great career in New Rome… oh, and he happened to be a great cook. Yeah, as if Travis hadn’t already felt inadequate enough and regret embarrassing himself spilling his guts and ruining their last meeting with a bout of anger.

“I see…” Travis drawled noncommittally. He bent over and looked inside the fridge for a bit. What was he looking at? A bunch of vegetables, great. “Green stuff.”

“Ew!”

“I know what you mean, kid,” Travis agreed. If he wasn’t with a kid he didn’t know Travis would be doing the same thing. Blanching at the mere thought of vegetables as part of his diet. Granted he liked candied carrots. He didn’t know why, they were just really good.

“Michael said there’s a note.”

Travis didn’t even bother asking how the kid would know that. The kid coming over was probably the reason Michael wanted him to stay anyways.

Just as he took out a microwavable item he heard a loud crash from the next door. Travis saw how the boy immediately froze up, his eyes widening into large globes. He seemed almost trapped by memory more than shock. There was a woman screaming and shouting demands.

“He’s at school!” a man’s voice yelled. It didn’t take an idiot to put one and one together.

The kid was that sad “poor kid” from next door. The kind no one wanted to do anything for even if they could. The one they pitied when they talked with each other, but avoided looking his way when he walked past them bruised and hurt. The kid that didn’t attach himself to anyone easily because the adults in his life were jerks. Travis knew, because he grew up in that kind of neighborhood. Knew because it had been his fault.

The woman started screaming hysterically. Normally in most situations it would be the man yelling demands, not the other way around. Travis watched the kid closely, the way he was so tense he couldn’t shake from fear. The paleness creeping up on his dark skin tone. The way his little hands clutched even tighter to that wolf-plushy for the world.

“It’ll be okay,” Travis said, pulling up a chair next to him. The boy was still staring at the wall—the one shared with the apartment of the dysfunctional family. “You’ll be okay.”

Nothing. No response.

Travis could almost see the memories flashing in front of the kid’s eyes.

Travis couldn’t think. What could he do? Why wasn’t Kahale trying to do something? He was Roman, he was supposed to be all “JUSTICE” or whatever. For a moment the image of that guy from _Braveheart_ was replaced with Michael in war-paint, hold his celestial gold sword and roaring “JUSTICE!” instead of “FREEDOM!”

Travis could see the nervous swallow bobbing in the boy’s throat. He snapped himself to the situation as he uncovered the cold lunch Michael had left them. He ignores the note for a second as he shoved the sandwich in the kid’s general direction.

It took a moment, the screaming turning to quiet arguments, before the boy noticed the sandwich and picked it up to eat. He took small little nibbles before suddenly gobbling it all up in huge bites.

Travis offered the other half of the sandwich as he finally decided to read Michael’s note. It almost read in Michael’s no-nonsense voice.

 

_His name’s Ernest. His family’s not well. Call me if there’s anything._

 

Then there was a phone number scribbled to the bottom of the note. There wasn’t a phone anywhere for Travis to use though. He wasn’t really big on that even though he should be.

“You don’t happen to have a cell phone do you?” Travis asked as he stuffed the note into the back of his pocket. The kid nodded and fished it out of his backpack.

Travis wanted to ask. The he thought better of it. Instead he entered the number into the flip-phone only to realize it was actually the kid’s speed-dial. He put the phone to his ear.

It rang for some time but no answer. Michael might have gone to work or something and was unavailable. Seeing the kid, Ernest’s face made him call again. Then a third time. The answer finally came.

“What?” the dark voice bit out angrily.

“Um…” Travis wasn’t sure what to say or ask.

“Stoll?” Michael sounded confused and a little shock. “What’s wrong?” Travis could hear movement in the background. Something that sounded like clothes.

“Ernest is here.”

There was a pause. He heard some more noise, this time a little clearer. His senses suddenly heightened. A woman’s voice was telling Michael to “come back”. Had Travis literally just wasted an entire day why that guy went around screwing people?

“Is he okay?”

It took a long moment before Travis realized Michael was asking him a question and that the question was about Ernest. “He’s fine. His dad sent him over.”

“His dad sent him over?” Michael sounded confused.

He decided to change the language he was speaking in. He remembered enough of Roman to be able to report back to Michael. _“The guy had the kid go to school on spring break. He walked around on the streets alone and came back for dinner. I would assume with all the yelling and shouting he didn’t want the kid inside the apartment when the woman came in.”_

There was silence on Michael’s end. Travis hoped his assumptions were right.

“I’ll be back soon. Wait for me.” Then Michael hung up.

Travis tried to sooth Ernest when there was a loud crash and the man—Ernest’s father—started shouting curses. Then came the classic “I work my butt off…” speech (but from the woman, Ernest’s mom).

“Don’t look so worry. Michael’s coming back soon,” Travis tried to comfort him again.

The boy shook his head. “Mommy…” He lost his voice. Travis waited patiently. It would seem the situation was more urgent for the boy. “Mommy’s going to hurt dad.”


	7. The Ties

It was a whirlwind after that call. Travis heard the fight, and the noise that came out of it made even him clench. He had grabbed onto Ernest instinctively, as if covering him and his ears was going to do much. The kid, even younger than Alethea, had experienced too much.

Travis could feel his shirt getting drenched by silent tears. The boy’s tremors as he stood up with him in his arms echoed in his body.

“It’ll be okay,” he kept whispering. At some point in those twenty minutes that past it felt more for his benefit than for Ernest.

He was moving, holding onto Ernest against his body, suddenly remembering that horrible night Alethea had been taken by the cyclops. That was only a few months ago in January. It hadn’t been that long. Travis felt himself tremble at the thought. The difference between Alethea and Ernest was that she had a satyr, an older brother, friends who helped her. She had a godly parent who watched over her too. Ernest didn’t have any of that. The people that were supposed to protect him were currently close to killing each other in the next room.

He curled them in the corner the bed was pulled into. The memories assaulted him. Memories he had wanted to keep locked up forever.

* * *

 

Michael had never felt more desperate in his life than at that moment. It wasn’t just for Ernest, it was for Travis. Why of all days had that couple finally decided to explode, to push each other over the edge? He knew their situation too well. He knew he should have called it in, but he figured he was there during the critical times of the day to be able to protect the child.

He inwardly cursed himself for the lazy naiveté. He knew the reason he hadn’t acted. It was because he knew he was being watched. All they needed was a single reason, something to latch onto and they would have the excuse to ruin Michael.

Michael ran up the stairs two at a time. He could hear the shouting. He could feel the gazes. He knew the cops were there already. Gods…

When he finally made it to his floor Ernest’s mother was being taken past him in cuffs, two officers escorting her. Ernest’s father was sitting slumped against the wall by the apartment door. The old lady sneaking a look from across the hall of him sharply closed her door. She might’ve been the one who called it in.

The man had a bloody nose and scratched up arms, a gash in his forearm and a stab in his shoulder. He groaned when a police officer pulled him onto his feet. An EMT group came up the stairs finally—he hadn’t bothered to even register the sirens and cars outside the apartment earlier—passing him towards the father.

The older man didn’t make a single sound as the EMT cut off the leg of his jeans, detaching it to see the large bruise on his right leg.

“This is some crazy shit,” one office commented in disgust. “Women hitting men.” The officer shook his head to the officer holding up Ernest’s father as he clicked his tongue. “I remember the days it used to be the other way around.” He heard the unsaid words: “at least it wouldn’t have been this horror.” But Michael knew it was because it was easier to handle men as aggressors.

“Kahale.”

Michael hadn’t realized the father was talking to him until they locked eyes and an EMT turned to him, waving him over. Michael slowly approached, taking the slowest three steps he’d ever taken to avoid getting there any sooner.

“I would like a word in private,” the man said to the EMT and officers. None of them would leave them alone.

“Give us a few minutes, please,” Michael asked pleadingly, forcing more power in his charmspeak than necessary. The EMT helped to secure the man on the gurney and then gave them both space for privacy. The police also wandered off to question the neighbors.

The man grabbed Michael’s wrist immediately when he approached the gurney. “Son of Venus.” Michael held very still. He knew some of the people in the building were demigods or legacies, he hadn’t… Ernest…

Gods, could Ernest be…?

“That boy…”

“What about Ernest?”

The man shook his head for a moment then groaned. “He’s not mine.”

“What?”

Michael felt like someone just maimed him in the chest. He felt his knees breaking under the weight of those words. Whose child was it then?

“His mom…” the man coughed, the nosebleed wasn’t very helpful, and he had a torn lip. “With Apollo…”

“Shit,” Michael cursed loudly. The man nodded. “How could this…”

“Godly parents sometimes overlook the few of us that show no potential,” the man laughed. He turned his face and looked far away. “This place is where some of us end up.”

“What do you mean?”

“The old lady,” the man nodded with his chin to the old woman across the hall from him. Her white soft hair was thinning but she wasn’t balding. “Been here all her life. Now she rarely steps out. Old age type. Only sixty, though.”

“You should probably save your breath,” Michael advised.

The man shook his head. “Don’t matter.” Michael felt it should. “She was a child of Venus too.” Michael couldn’t even summon the words to speak up from that. “She was average. Something of a plain Jane.” Michael nodded to let the man know he was listening. He didn’t have the words to speak yet. “No gifts. Lupa never came for her.”

Michael felt a chill go up his spine. Lupa only took in the ones with potential, watched the children grow up in Wolf House and only allowed the ones with the strength to make it stand with her. To hunt with her. To learn from her. To be loved by her.

Michael couldn’t think. He shouldn’t, but his mind was racing. So many thoughts.

“His mom… Apollo was with her for a night.” The man’s breathing seemed to be getting harder. “Ernest was born.” Michael tried to breathe but it was difficult.

“You?”

The man tried for a laugh but it turned into a wheeze halfway through. “Brothers. Half.” He shook his head. For some reason he saw an amusement there that Michael didn’t see. Perhaps the pain was making him delirious. “I kept hoping… was waiting…” the man said without finishing his sentence. Michael nodded. He understood. He wanted Lupa to come for Ernest.

“You need to go with the EMT,” Michael said to the man.

The man shook his head. “I know my time. A curse from my father.” Then Michael’s gaze shot to the man’s forearm where the scar had disfigured a tattoo. In the light he was just about able to see the mutilated symbol for Apollo, the Roman letters were slashed so badly the skin healed over the tattoo. Michael didn’t ask but the man answered anyways, “I critiqued him. He showed his son how he would die. So I left.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said, trying to sooth the man at least. How could he apologize for the gods he so revered? How could he shoulder the guilt of the gods? He didn’t have the strength to do what Jason Grace or Percy Jackson did—to demand equality and understanding, to ask for true love not superficial distant relationships. Michael took what he could and he cherished them and kept them. He wasn’t capable. How could he take the burdens for the mistakes of a god? How could he think he had any right to say the gods have made a mistake at all?

“Your name…”

This time the man laughed until he coughed, drawing the officers and EMTs back to him.

“Tell me your real name!” Michael demanded angrily, desperate. He knew the man’s name was not Julio.

“Enfant d'Apollon, Malek.”

 

It took some time until Michael could walk into his apartment. He felt hollow and raw. What was the phrase? “Ignorance is bliss”? Perhaps that was true. Michael was starting to wish Prometheus never gave the gift of fire to humanity. To be knowledgeable, to know light in the darkness, to have passions and desires… These things… It was useless. So useless.

Then he looked up and found Travis curled into a ball at the corner wall of his bed. Michael dropped his things as he kicked the door closed.

“Travis.”

The man jerked up but didn’t turn to look at him.

“Where’s Ernest?”

“Here,” the child squealed. “I’m okay.”

Michael nodded. He was moving towards Travis when he heard a wolf’s howl. He moved to the window instead, and he saw sitting outside on the sidewalk the giant wolf goddess. Red fur and all.

Michael stifled a miserable groan. Of all the gods and goddesses the only one he could appreciate, could be loyal to without pause of thought was Lupa. She didn’t care much for the problems of others. If one showed their strength they were rewarded. It was harsh and cruel but it was… real. Raw. True.

“Ernest,” Michael whispered. The boy moved towards him, squirming out of Travis’ arms. He crawled across the bed to the window where Michael stood staring out.

“Oh!” Ernest gasped when he saw Lupa in all her glory. Her misty silver eyes were entrancing. Beautiful yet dangerous. “Wow…”

“That’s Lupa.”

“Lupa…”

“She’s here for you.”

The boy didn’t understand. He just kept gaping.

“Ernest, do you want to go with her?”

“Can I see you if I go?” Ernest asked when he turned to look up at Michael. It pained him to see such innocence in such a dark time. “Will I get hurt like what mommy did? Will she hurt dad?”

Michael shook his head. He felt so vulnerable, so helpless at the moment. “Your dad won’t be coming back.”

Ernest’s face dropped. It paled and then turned dark, angry… scowling. That wolf stare that Lupa so loved to teach her “children” was already being perfected by Ernest.

“Did she…”

Michael didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know. Yes. No. Maybe?

“I don’t know.” Michael sighed. It was painful to talk this over. He heard Lupa howl again. “If you go with Lupa, you’ll have a hard time. You have to fight for yourself.”

“And if I stay?”

“They will give you to another family.”

“I have a family!” Ernest shouted. He stood up on the bed, puffing out his chest to make it bigger. “I have mommy! Even if she’s mean and horrible!” Ernest’s right arm with the cigarette burns proved that. “And I have my dad!” Ernest stomped his foot. “Malek El-Amin!” he proclaimed. He pounded his fists against Michael’s chest angrily. “And I have you! You’re my family too!” he cried loudly, beating his tiny fists against Michael until he lost the will to keep doing so. “I don’t want to go anywhere!”

“I know,” Michael said.

“I want to stay with you!”

“I know.”

“You want me, don’t you? You said I could live with you forever! You even bought me pajamas! Dad even said… he even said…” Ernest’s tears broke and he started bawling. Michael engulfed him in his arms, hugging him tightly. He heard Lupa’s howl again.

“I will always be here when you need me,” he promised.

“Liar! You won’t be here! You’ll leave!”

Michael shook his head. “No, Ernest,” he said quietly. He pulled the child away for a moment. He pointed to Ernest’s heart and settled his big hand over it. “Here.” He kissed Ernest’s forehead. “When you need me I will come.”

“Then I’ll go with her,” Ernest said finally. He wiped the tears off his cheeks. He opened the window and shouted, “I’m coming, hold your tail!” Then he scrambled off the bed, grabbed his plush toy wolf, backpack and jacket and ran out the apartment. No goodbyes.

It wasn’t a goodbye.


	8. Broken/Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies because... writing really hard, abusive, usually not written or spoken of issues (such as sexual assault, child abuse, or such) is really hard.

Travis remembered why it happened. It was the first month after he and Connor returned from camp their first time at Half-Blood Hill. No one in the neighborhood cared much about them, because they were always getting into trouble even when they weren’t looking for it. It was always some kind of fist fight, some prank, or stealing. Even the local police officer who took walks to check out the neighborhood didn’t care for speaking with them.

One day he and Connor were sneaking around practicing their tracking skills (and various things they learned at camp). They decided to follow their next door neighbor whose wife was very quiet but very nice. They would have followed her that day but she hadn’t been around so they followed the husband instead.

It was several blocks before they saw the horror. Several minutes before either of them could move. Travis could never swallow what happened in that abandoned warehouse in the middle of the day. He would never forget.

 

When he woke up it was the middle of the night. He was facing the wall, and it didn’t take a genius to know whose golden-muscled arm he was using as a pillow. Michael Kahale’s other hand was draped over his body, molding against his stomach. Travis wasn’t going to bother asking why he was in his boxers and t-shirt again.

He stayed very still when Michael started to move, his legs spread open by Michael’s knee. A part of him hoped Michael wasn’t awake, another part hoped he was. Either way both sides wished Michael would stop.

Aside from his knee pressed rather high up to the proximity of Travis’ crotch nothing else happened. Then he felt a cool breath against the back of his neck.

“I want to bite you.”

“What?”

Travis tried to turn around but Michael’s hand and legs stayed him. He didn’t know what made Michael want to bite him but he didn’t want to be bitten.

“I won’t,” Michael assured him in a tired voice. Travis was tired too but he didn’t want to sleep. “Not yet anyway.” That didn’t bode well.

“How in Hades did I end up in bed with a hot guy who hasn’t even taken me out on a date yet?” Travis grumbled. He thought he said it to himself but Michael started chuckling behind him and shaking from laughter. Great, now someone heard him saying things that shouldn’t be said out loud. Usually he or Connor could pass it off as a joke when he said something he was thinking out loud.

He felt a soft kiss that felt like a lick on his shoulder. Then a cold breath blowing the saliva dry, sending goose-bumps up and down Travis’ skin. It didn’t help since Travis’ face was still heated up from embarrassment and quite a bruising of shame.

“Sorry to say I can’t afford you any such luxuries.”

Travis mentally rolled his eyes. “If we’re going to share a bed can you not touch me? Your bed is big enough for two full grown men.” Travis was pretty sure Michael could stick three girls in it with himself included actually.

“It was pretty cramp sharing it yesterday and you almost fell off the bed once,” Michael grumbled. He sounded really tired. Travis was still shaking from his dream—the memories. He didn’t want to go back to sleep because when he did they would get worse. “You really shouldn’t be drinking.” Travis didn’t respond. What was he supposed to say? _“Sorry I was drunk and I’m so fat I took up all the space in your giant-ass bed”_?

They laid there in silence and eventually Travis fell asleep again. He was sure he’d struggled or screamed throughout the night. It was like that whenever the nightmare came for him or Connor. It was why they were always together—usually.

When he woke up it was with tears in his eyes. Michael was leaning over him staring down. A look of worry that was immediately replaced with coldness when Travis woke up.

A hand suddenly pulled him up by the arm. He sat a little dazed. “Drink,” Michael then said as he pressed a cool glass of water in his hands. “You didn’t eat anything yesterday.” Travis shrugged. It wasn’t a question. Apparently Michael just knew he hadn’t but it wasn’t like Travis had never starved before.

When Travis opened his mouth to talk Michael grabbed his jaw again. He always did that, like he could control Travis if he just grabbed his jaw and chin with one of those powerful hands. Like what Travis had to say was unimportant.

“Don’t speak,” Michael said in a tone that was different to the aggression in his hands. Soft… almost caring. Perhaps that was the charmspeak. “You didn’t drink or eat anything yesterday. So you’re going to stay in bed, sulk, eat your food, drink some water and juice, and sulk.” Travis didn’t understand why Michael was telling him to sulk. Travis didn’t want to. It just made him feel worse.

“Dunna wunda,” Travis mumbled almost incomprehensibly with Michael squeezing his jaw and cheeks.

Michael’s eyes squinted as if he caught on. Then he said, “Say it again.” He released Travis’ jaw.

“Donna Wanda,” Travis smiled cheekily. Michael shook his head and then patted Travis’ leg under the blanket. He had an odd look in his eyes Travis had never seen on him before, it was one of those “faraway and gone” looks. Something he knew, but he couldn’t quite peg what it was.

“I’ve got the next couple days off,” Michael said as he stood up. He walked towards his little kitchen area where the table was and brought back a plate. “Eat this.” He put a plate of sunny-side-up eggs, bacons and toast on Travis’ lap. “I’ll be back.” Then he left the apartment.

Michael hadn’t returned when Travis finished his breakfast. He’d been hungry and ate most of it in a rush. It was good—really good. He never ate anything as good as Michael’s cooking before. Especially when Travis put the plate in the sink and he saw a plate on the counter with a bit of unfinished scrambled eggs. He ate that too (out of curiosity) and nearly moaned.

Travis finished a glass of water by the sink and went back to the bed. He collapsed on his stomach and groaned aloud, “Can I just marry you?” as he spoke to an imaginary Michael Kahale.

“Are you proposing to my bed?” he heard Michael’s voice drawl.

“What?” Travis flipped over quickly. He felt his face burn up but he quickly moved towards the wall side to give a distance. Instead Michael climbed onto the bed and sat down, the knee of his folded leg just touching Travis’ own.

“You asked to marry my bed.”

“No,” Travis shook his head rigorously. “No I didn’t.”

“Then who… or what, were you asking?”

“No one,” Travis answered quickly, then remembered to add, “Nothing.” There was a pause as Michael gave him a suspicious raised brow. Travis did his best to look calm and innocent. He probably wasn’t doing very well with either.

“You just imaginatively decided to practice how to propose a lifetime commitment?” Michael asked.

“No.”

“Uh-huh.”

Every hair on his body started to stand on end when Michael leaned towards Travis. He was mere inches away when Travis moaned and bristled. Michael just smiled.

“Tell me who.”

“No one!” Travis shouted. Now he felt even more bothered by saying it out loud when he thought he was alone, because the person in question was the one who’d caught him. Travis tried to move away to leave the bed but Michael had the advantage of cutting off his escape.

Michael pinned him down on the bed quicker than Travis could move to the edge. Travis was well aware of Michael’s hips pressed against him, and the bulge that burned hotly. Travis felt himself go weak-kneed with the look in Michael’s eyes. It was different from the faraway look from earlier. It was… playful. Dark, playful and filled with something Travis couldn’t quite describe. It was a look that scared every bone in Travis.

Travis’s hands were pinned down by his wrists, Michael’s strong hands holding them captive. Travis was scared—truly afraid. He could feel it rising against him and his skin. But then there was another part of him that hoped for something. Both feelings scared him.

“Tell me.”

Travis broke. “You,” he gasped for breath. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. Travis clenched his fists and tried futilely to wring his hands free but Michael was immovable. “You. I was… you weren’t supposed to hear it. I was just talking to myself.” Travis knew he was panicking, and he didn’t know why. He was afraid. So scared. He couldn’t think.

“What’s wrong?” Michael was suddenly holding him from behind, they were sitting up. Michael’s hands were around his waist their legs were pressed together, Travis’ back was pressing against Michael’s chest.

“What…” Travis croaked. Gods, did he…?

“You had a panic attack and blacked out for a bit,” Michael told him. Travis nodded. He shouldn’t had been here. He should have been working or doing anything but go off some place to party and get drunk. He shouldn’t have been in Salt Lake City. Connor should have been here to make sure he would be okay. Oh gods, someone who barely knew him had just…

“Calm down, everything is okay,” Michael whispered into his ear. Travis tensed. “Is it okay if I charmspeak?” Michael asked. Travis wanted to ask why Michael was even asking, but then he remembered how Piper McLean didn’t like her charmspeak powers and tried not to use it unless needed. Michael would have been the same.

“Okay…” Travis answered. “I guess… I don’t-” Michael had grabbed his jaw again. Travis stopped talking.

“Shh.” He felt Michael pulled him forward, his crotch and abs pressing against his backside. His shoulder blades dug into Michael’s back as he slumped against the bigger body. Michael leaned his head down against Travis’ shoulder and neck. “Listen to my voice,” Michael said softly. Travis could hear it echo, as if all that existed when he closed his eyes was Michael and him. As though all that mattered was listening to Michael.

“Don’t think of anything.”

There was nothing. Just darkness.

“Don’t worry about anything.”

Travis felt himself become goo. A hand was at the base of his neck rubbing that place between his shoulders at his back. He moaned loudly.

“There’s just you and me right now. At this moment. Suspended in all of creation.”

Travis opened his mouth to suck in a breath.

“Those memories,” Michael said and suddenly Travis stopped breathing. He was that little boy again in a warehouse hidden behind some cargo boxes. Through a crack he watched the horror. “Don’t be afraid of them.” But Travis was afraid of them. So very afraid. “Forget about them.” Travis shook his head.

“I can’t…”

“Then,” Michael said, “help me understand.”

“No…” Travis shook his head. The memories… No! Travis clenched his teeth and put his hands over his mouth. The man’s voice was demanding silence.

_“Don’t make a noise.”_

Travis was seeing it all over again. The tears were coming down his eyes. Connor had already gone for the police officer but Travis was alone, watching. Watching the part Connor never saw.

_“You know what’ll happen if you make a noise.”_

Travis shook his head. He was too afraid to move.

Suddenly he was watching the man take the woman tied on the table. His grunting as he moved in her, a knife slicing down an arm. She screamed through the gag. Travis bit his hand to stop himself from screaming. Then the man beat her one more time.

_“Do I have to teach you again, Lisa?”_

“…Travis…”

He held his breath in and all of it froze in place. The man was replacing the knife in his hand for a horse whip.

“I’m right here.”

Travis didn’t know who it was. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember. Did he know this deep voice?

Travis remembered the man finding him behind the boxes. Remembered the snarled and his eyes. Dark and dilated, heated, and it looked like he enjoyed it. He didn’t look mad finding Travis, he was happy Travis was there.

Travis had kicked and screamed, had taken his dagger out and slashed at the man. In the end he was still untrained, still too inexperienced.

“You are not there, Travis.”

He couldn’t believe the voice in his head. He was staring at the man. He was hurting the woman. He was hurting Lisa, his wife. Travis couldn’t believe the voice. The blood was running down her nose, she was choking on the gag, she had a cut down her arm, she had bruises all around her side, and the man…

“Travis, you have to listen to me.”

She had been so beautiful but now… Travis could never not see her so wrong. Chained down to a raised table, legs spread, being taken. Never not see the blood. Never not see the way the man touched her with his hands so dripping with her blood. Never not see the pain and fear in her eyes. Never not see the bruises. He could never forget her screams, her choking on the gags—all of it. `

“Travis you have to come back to me!”

The voice sounded urgent. Worried. Come back? Travis didn’t know the voice or where it was even from.

“Don’t be afraid, Travis! They’re just memories. You can’t get hurt again. I’m right here.” The voice was a liar. Travis knew liars. Travis was standing there, struggling, the man was trying to take off his pants and put him in front of the woman.

“Travis! You have to stop remembering!”

Travis wasn’t remembering. He was there. It was happening. It was still happening. He was so scared, so confused. He felt so wrong. The man had said something was wrong with him.

“Those memories _do not_ control you!”

Something jolted.

“You are stronger than that! You are better.”

Travis knew he wasn’t, but…

“You will always be better.”

He wasn’t. Something was wrong with him. He was broken. He broke that day.

“Don’t let those memories swallow you whole, Travis Stoll. You are staying with me. We made a promise!”

Travis felt something surging in him. His heart was pumping wildly, and suddenly he wasn’t that little boy. He was a six-foot tall man. He fought in two wars and lived through them. He’s fallen in love and survived his heart getting broken. He was stronger than he was before. He wasn’t helpless.

 

_A child of truth in pools of lies,_

_The angel’s promise to hold the ties._

 

Travis knew these lines. Lines of a prophecy. A prophecy he realized didn’t just mean Will Solace. He’d been there too when Will had been talking with Rachel Dare. He’d been there when the prophecy was given.

 

_The strength of will alone to heal,_

_What lies broke a single choice will seal._

 

“If you wake up right now I will marry you!”

Travis opened his eyes just as the words left Michael’s lips. He could see the apparent panic in the man’s eyes. The fear. Travis could see the scratch marks on Michael’s powerful arms and shoulders. His neck was sporting a very deep mark from being bit. Travis ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling the ridges and curves and tasting a bit of Michael on his tongue.

He smiled as Michael’s hands enveloped his face, holding his cheeks, brushing away wetness Travis didn’t know were there.

“The angel’s promise.” Travis found himself smiling. Really smiling. He’d never felt more relieved to wake up from his nightmare. He wasn’t so sure how Michael was going to feel betrothing himself to Travis.

“Gods…” Michael groaned, slumping over Travis, his entire body weight falling onto him. “Never do that again,” he growled into Travis’ ear. Travis laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Travis was traumatized. No the story is not about "fixing" the problem. It is something Travis has lived with and will always live with (in my story anyways, as there is not a lot of info on the Stolls). It will be a problem in the series that kind of ends up just being "dealt" with, but Travis will in no way ever be "healed"


	9. the Angel's Promise Unbroken

Michael had not been so sure of leaving Travis alone. He’d eaten his cold lunch and was all smiles and chatters. Michael had known something was wrong before and that Travis needed to talk about the memories that plagued him. Memories he was certain also plagued Connor Stoll, the younger brother.

Instead of acting on his protective instincts (which Travis had said he was doing earlier, not that Michael would disagree) he had left the apartment and went shopping. He wasn’t sure how long Travis was staying but he knew Travis would still be in college (if he even went to college).

Michael wasn’t much for shopping. He bought clothes when he needed new ones, and apparently he had good taste but he never really thought about it before. He grabbed a package of black soft tee-shirts and a pair of jeans. Seeing as he had to take off Travis’ clothes twice in a row he was pretty sure he grabbed the right size. Michael opted against grabbing any underwear. Those cherub cupid boxers were starting to grow on Michael in an amusing kind of way. Michael normally didn’t care about clothes at all.

When Michael returned to the apartment he was also carrying ingredients for dinner in one hand and the bag of clothes in another. When he opened the door he was not expecting to see what was in front of him.

“Hey! Welcome back!” Travis grinned at him. Michael wasn’t sure why he was shocked to see that Travis had broken his kitchen table.

Travis laid sprawled on his back with Michael’s broken table under him. The legs had apparently collapsed, so that seemed fixable. Michael hoped from the way it looked that it could be.

Michael couldn’t help himself and spoke his thoughts. “You couldn’t have waited for me to throw you onto the table you did it yourself?” He found himself smiling widely with Travis’ scandalized face. The other man’s mouth opened and closed as if his jaw had been numbed, and his eyes bulged out.

“You… you…” Travis stumbled onto his feet. He kicked his feet at the floor like a guilty child as he spoke under his breath. “I… Um…”

Michael kicked his front door closed and set the bags on the floor. He approached the stumbling and stuttering Travis. Grabbing Travis’ waistband, hooking a finger into the belt loop he pulled Travis towards him. The other man didn’t fight or struggle, merely stepped towards him.

“I can always throw you onto the bed but it won’t be as stimulating as the table’s squeaking,” Michael said in a lower voice. He knew the tone of his voice was stimulating, that others were rather attracted to it. It was just so amusing to see Travis’ reactions. It seemed that as much as it turned him on, it also made him a little scared and a little nervous. “But I won’t.”

He watched as Travis’ entire face dropped. Part of it from expecting it would happen then getting that dashed, the other part from… Michael would have to suppose it was insecurity. Michael also knew about such feelings towards children of Venus, being insecure about whether he were faithful, being insecure about whether they were good enough for him...

Michael had gone through it once and gave up having relationships. He didn’t need a partner or partners who couldn’t trust him. Arranged marriages had seemed easier if one was going to have a marriage. Michael knew relationships in any form was not for him, however.

He drew Travis a little closer, making him lean since Travis refused to take another small step forward. Michael could feel the heat between them, could see the slight blush on Travis’ face, the way his eyes were downcast to the side seemed almost too sensual. A part of him suspected Travis of having practiced a lot of things so he could draw people in. Something of a Venus flytrap.

He felt like Travis could take him whole.

Travis bristled, starting to shuffle between his feet. Usually that meant Travis was anticipating some kind of dressing down, or that he was afraid of something (like being chastise and punished). Michael had noticed that in the five years he occasionally visited Camp Half-Blood.

His voice a little husky Michael called out to him. “Travis Stoll.” The man looked up at him then. Eyes unguarded and reflecting worry and fear, something he was familiar with. Michael decided not to leave him tormented. “I cannot do any more of those things with you until you are certain you will not have another…” Michael searched for the best way to put it delicately (which was difficult seeing as he was usually rather blunt in speech), he didn’t know what to say until a word came to him, “nightmare.”

Travis’s face turned paled and then pink. He seemed almost angry and yet not angry at the same time. Just very annoyed. He looked away for a different reason this time.

“I know I’m broken.”

“You’re not broken.”

“I am!”

Michael decided not to argue. Instead he tried to assess the situation. He could not see how Travis was broken in any way. He was a whole and complete person, body and soul. Perhaps it was his mind. Something like how people would get an injury and it heals perfectly but in their mind they can’t stop feeling the pain because they still think the injury is there. He’d seen a few legionnaires who had to leave service because they couldn’t overcome that psychological injury.

“Help me understand,” Michael bid him. This time he hoped that was not going to trigger another set of nightmares and horror.

Travis bit his lower lip. Another very sensual thing he did without knowing it was a turn on. Michael wanted to smooth out that lower lip and kiss him into a dazzle.

“I’m broken,” Travis said again, this time in a quieter voice. He started to dig the ball of his foot into the floor, or at least tried to. Michael took one hand off Travis’ waist and smooth it over his side, feeling each ripple of lean muscle.

Travis shuddered from his touch, like he knew he would. How could a single man be so enticing? Even just a mere petting made the man want to groan. It was too much to be a bait to have sex with Michael.

“Yeah?” he said, more interested in staring at Travis’ luscious lips.

“He said I was broken. Weird… A freak.” Travis’ voice trembled and Michael felt himself start to see red. Who was ‘he’? He took the small step forward to close the gap between them, heard Travis suck in a breath when his hand pulled their bodies against each other.

“Who?”

Travis’ fear was apparent. He didn’t need to know fear to know Travis had a lot of it at this moment.

“My neighbor when I was…” Travis bit his lip again, but this time Michael saw it for what it was. He was nervous and afraid, he didn’t want to speak of it, and he was afraid Michael would pass judgment on him for the truth. Who had taught him that the truth was something to hide? As though secrets should be made a natural thing.

“The one in your nightmare?” he guessed. Travis nodded. “What did he do?”

Travis shook his head. “He was a bad person. Horrifying. He… caught me.” He could hear the shaking in Travis’ voice. The fear. The uncertainty. “He tried to make…” his voice dropped, “…take her.”

“Take who?” Michael felt like he shouldn’t have asked. Should have left it at that. Should not have forced Travis to speak on his fears at all. The traumatizing event that had never healed in his mind could open a flood gate of destruction in Michael. Yet he had asked.

“His wife.”

He felt everything taken apart inside him. How old had Travis been to not have been able to defend himself? Ten? Younger? Who would make a child take a woman?

Love? Attraction? Carnal pleasure? They were all the same. The powers of his mother. It was these things that made that man become so twisted, and unfortunately Michael knew some children of Venus were the same.

“He…” Travis’s hands grabbed at the shirt around his stomach. It was as though he was physically trying to hide himself from shame. What did Travis have to be ashamed of? “He put something in me… with a needle.” An injection. “But I couldn’t… he said I was a freak because I couldn’t…” Michael knew the words, he didn’t need Travis to say them. “He said I was broken because I came from a broken family.”

Michael hadn’t intended it but he was now hugging Travis. He hadn’t thought out his actions or what it could have been mistaken when he did it. Instinctively he’d sought to comfort Travis and as he would do with Ernest he drew the man in for a hug and began rubbing circles in his back for comfort.

* * *

 

“You are not broken,” Michael had growled into Travis’ ear with conviction in his voice. Travis felt himself shiver, because he had a feeling Michael had no idea he was growling and that sound did things to Travis he’d never felt before.

Travis didn’t know what to say in response to that. He knew Michael wasn’t going to marry him—how would two guys get married? States were always fighting over those same-sex marriage laws. Hell, Travis hadn’t even heard a peep from Michael and it had only been a few hours.

“You are not broken,” Michael repeated. Travis felt himself just nod. Okay, maybe he wasn’t broken but he was still a freak. “You are not a freak.” Now he was pretty sure Michael had the ability to read minds because Travis had _not_ said that out loud. At least he didn’t think he did. “You are not weird. There’s nothing wrong with you except the occasional childishness.”

_What was that supposed to mean?_

“And you’re naïve to think that man knew anything about you,” Michael said in a harsh but quiet tone. It was more reprimanding than it was criticizing.

“You know _nothing_ about me,” Travis pointed out, but he mumbled it. Talking to Michael was still new to him.

His jaw was immediately grasped again by Michael’s iron hold. His head lifted up towards Michael, who had about three inches on him at least.

“And just how much do you think you know about me?” Michael asked him. It wasn’t an annoyed questioned, it was curiosity. He could see it in Michael’s eyes, he’d been through it many times—people who think they know him but didn’t. “Not much, I’m sure,” Michael said after a pause, “But you think you love me.” Travis _knew_ he was in love with Michael. “So I’m allowed to believe that you are not broken.”

Travis still didn’t believe he wasn’t broken. But then he realized it was the same for Michael. He didn’t believe Travis was actually in love with him, and that hurt him a lot.

He pulled away from Michael, which took a lot more strength than he figured he needed. He stepped as far back as Michael allowed him, because the moment Michael lowered his chin he looked as though he was glowering. Travis knew that stare, a lot of Roman demigods used it. That “you don’t wanna try me” dark look.

“I can’t do this right now,” Travis found the words to say. He felt the anxiety building up again. Suddenly they weren’t two people who were helping each other and leaning on one another (Travis mostly). They were the guy who could have anyone and the boy who’d been crushing on him for five years.

Knowing and remembering that hurt. Travis didn’t want to hurt.

“I just…”

“Hold on,” Michael stopped him. He turned and walked to one of the grocery bags he’d left at the door. Michael pulled out a pair of jeans and a package of t-shirts and brought them back to Travis. “Take a shower, calm down, change into these and relax.” It was the most abrupt thing to ever happen in conversation history. As if Michael suddenly decided the conversation should be changed for something more at hand.

Michael shuffled him towards the corner of the room opposite the kitchenette and pointed to the showerhead. Then he pointed to the knobs. Travis grimace.

“I’m not showering in front of you.”

There weren’t any curtains. When Travis looked up it seemed the curtains had been torn down a long time ago because the railing for it was still attached to the ceiling.

Michael raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t try to goad Travis. “I’ve got business. Take your shower.” Before he left he informed Travis that a clean towel was on the (broken) kitchen table with the clothes and t-shirts.

When Michael stepped out Travis shouted, “You didn’t get me underwear!” just to prickle him.

Instead, “We can share!” was Michael’s answer through the door and then all there was were receding steps.

Travis nearly lost his balance where he crouched by the fallen kitchen table (it was starting to remind him of Buford the Table but without legs and not flying anywhere).

 _Share_ Michael’s underwear? Gods, Travis just recalled he’d left wearing Connor’s cupid boxers. He hadn’t really cared since he only came to Salt Lake City looking for a party to slip into and get drunk. He hadn’t expected a vacation with Michael Kahale.

He showered quickly, washing all the sweat and grim off him with the soap in the soap holder on the floor. He was in the middle of just feeling the lukewarm spray on his skin when he heard creaks and shifting from the wall. The apartment next door should be empty. The woman was arrested and the man was… Actually Travis wasn’t sure what happened to the kid’s father.

He pressed himself into the wall, listening. For a moment there wasn’t any noise, and then he heard some clattering and jumped away from the wall. He almost slipped but caught his balance.

Moving quickly he shampooed his hair, rinsed it out, turned off the shower and dried himself. He was in such a rush he slipped on the jeans and one of the t-shirts without thinking. Travis ran for the bed and slipped under the covers.

It was dark by the time Travis was able to pull his head out of the blanket. His hair had dried up in curls as he kept himself under the blanket the entire afternoon. He realized Michael hadn’t returned.

Putting on his shoes without his socks Travis tentatively stepped outside the safety of Michael’s studio apartment. When he looked around the place was dead quiet. It was almost a deserted busted old apartment building. He stepped lightly but the floorboard underneath him creaked. Travis found himself wincing, but as there was no reaction he slowly crept out.

Travis was just passing Michael’s door when he heard another door open. He held his breath and looked around until his eyes landed on the door across from Michael’s apartment. An old woman with graying hair peeked out from the crack.

“Hello…” Travis managed with a smile.

“He’s next door,” the woman croaked, pointing to the apartment next door. Ernest’s family apartment.

Travis grimaced, then nodded to the woman. “Thank you.” The woman closed the door immediately, disappearing into the silence.

Travis relaxed his stance and slowly walked to the next door apartment. He was thinking to knock but the door wasn’t closed and it wasn’t locked. He pushed the door open a little more and peeked Michael sitting solemnly inside. Quiet, like a statue.

Travis found himself walking in quietly. He was standing just beside Michael when he saw what Michael was holding in his hands. An old leather-bound journal, written in Roman. Under one of his thumbs was a picture paper-clipped to the page.

“Longer than six years…” Michael croaked.

“What?”

“He was here longer than six years,” Michael said again.

“What’s wrong, Michael?”

Michael shook his head. Travis had never heard Michael’s voice so weak before, so raspy. It sounded like Michael was breaking apart. As though he was crying but there wasn’t any tears.

Tears weren’t needed to cry or mourn, but Travis felt like Michael needed to shed those tears. Odd that Travis would think that at all.

“This journal is from his time in Camp Jupiter and New Rome until now,” Michael said. Travis sat down on the chest with Michael. He moved himself closer to Michael’s body and leaned in to read the Roman words. It took him some time to be able to readjust to the language.

“Apollo cursed him because he demanded all children of the gods be brought to Camp Jupiter,” Michael summarized the content for him. That wasn’t what was on the page, but Travis had a feeling Michael had read the journal starting from page one. There were several paperclips on other pages. The journal was almost too thick for its own leather binding.

“Aren’t they?”

Michael shook his head. “Only the ones with potential goes to Lupa. The strong becomes her children—a part of her pack. The ones who survive and take all she teaches them receive directions to Camp Jupiter.”

“Is it still that way?”

Michael shrugged. He took a deep breath. “Jason Grace and Percy Jackson have fought for those causes. Equality.” Michael bent his head down low, his elbows on his knees and the leather journal spread open in his hands. There was a silent declaration Travis knew was unsaid there but was in the tick of Michael’s strong jaw. “But this was years ago. Five years before Percy or Jason…”

“He left?”

“He was cursed. Apollo showed him his death.”

“He’s…?”

Michael didn’t answer. “Malek El-Amin, son of Apollo…” Michael made some kind of squeezed sound with his voice, as if he couldn’t think of something to say. Then he took a deep breath and let out a hiccupping exhale. “If you are despised in any way by your own godly parent it is the same as being cursed—worst, as being killed or thrown out. He had to leave.” Michael shrugged but Travis knew Michael wanted to cry. Needed to. “He chose to leave.”

“Okay…”

Michael shook his head out of frustration. “You never speak against your parents. Never.”

Travis begged to differ, seeing as Percy Jackson literally stood before the gods and demanded they claim all their children. But then he could see why this man—Malek El-Amin would have been… exiled.

“He met her… Jasmine, and then Apollo took her and she…” Michael shook his head. “The woman only had Ernest in case Apollo came back.” Travis just nodded, he knew Michael needed to keep speaking. Stopping him meant making Michael bottle it up. Travis read the page as Michael spoke. Read Malek El-Amin’s memories as Michael talked about how horrible Jasmine was, and how he knew she sent Ernest to him to spite Malek.

_February 3 rd_

_Ernest is six years old today. A man moved in next door last week and he finally met him. She sent him over to the guy to agitate me because I tried to talk to her about her drug use again. Unlike most days Ernest is excited. I promised him once a long time ago that I would find him a guardian angel. Ernest laughed at that time, and said I was his angel. He decided he would take my name, which is weird seeing as we’re half-brothers… but not so weird. It makes me happy for reasons I can’t seem to put into words._

_I hope the man will be a good role model. He has the SPQR on him—a son of Venus. I hide from him when I can. I don’t feel ashamed, but I can never go back to those days. Perhaps when it comes… when that day comes… I’ll tell him. I hope Lupa comes for the child before it happens. I hope she comes. That child does not deserve this life and word is that the world is slowly beginning to change. Maybe even the untalented will have a real home._

_That man’s name is Michael, I heard. I hope he can be Ernest’s guardian angel, because I cannot hold onto that promise._

-    _M.E_

“I can’t…” Michael shook his head. His thumb moved from on top of the picture to caress the creases of the old pages. Travis could see it was a Polaroid picture. “I can’t…”

Travis suddenly realized why Michael had told him to eat and stay in bed today, why he’d told him to rest and sulk. Michael didn’t want to be vulnerable, to be hopeless or helpless. He didn’t want to feel the pain and the hurt because it was too much for him. So he wanted Travis to sulk and be hurt enough for both of them. But Travis knew it was too much for any person, this kind of feeling, the kind of love someone felt for another person, the kind that desperately looked for something for them to be happy.

“It’s okay to cry,” he told Michael as he got off the trunk and knelt on one knee. He put his hand on Michael’s knee and squeezed.

“I can’t… Crying doesn’t solve anything.”

“People cry out of frustration for something they cannot change. They cry when they wish to mourn. It’s okay to mourn the past and the futility of what cannot be undone,” Travis told him. Wise words the police officer who’d heeded Connor’s words that faithless day had told Travis. Words he lived with when he had to hide himself to cry.

Michael dropped the journal, and Travis finally looked at the photo attached to the page. It was a Polaroid (the old original kind) picture of Ernest smiling happily up at the camera. In the short time Travis had been with him he probably couldn’t imagine anyone with a bigger smile than him in that picture. Except Alethea. The way she looked at Will was almost like hero worship.

Travis stood to give Michael space and privacy. A powerful hand grabbed his, fingers interlocking.

“Stay…” Michael croaked. His voice was shaky. “We made a promise.”


	10. What We Can't Control

Michael had not been in any condition to be doing anything. The tears were not constant and didn’t run down his face. They dripped whenever they felt like it and he had no control over them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually cried.

Travis had ushered him from El-Amin’s apartment back to his own, sat him on the bed and told him not to fight the tears. Michael hadn’t. Being a son of Venus he knew when to give way to emotions and when to endure. Sexual desires, for example, he had almost complete control over. Emotions like sadness he could never control. He could do things to prevent them but he had no idea stop it himself.

“I don’t understand,” Michael said. His voice was low and raspy. He’d never felt more thirsty in his life. Suddenly a cool cup of water was being pressed into his hand. He took it, a tear falling into the cup as he stared at it.

“What?”

“I barely knew the man, but I’m crying for him,” Michael said. It was unbelievable, should be unthinkable for a Roman legionnaire to cry for someone they didn’t know.

Travis almost laughed as he sat down next to Michael. Then he felt Travis’s back leaning against his shoulder, digging into it. He could hear the receding chuckle.

“Michael Kahale, son of the goddess of love and fertility doesn’t understand why he mourns,” Travis said with amusement in his tone. Michael could hear the grin in Travis’ voice. There was silence because Michael had no retort. Travis then solemnly said to him, “Sometimes we cannot think logically. It’s instinct. Just like being a demigod. Greek came easier to read than English. It might take time and it might be difficult but I can learn languages at a faster rate than most people. It’s instinctive. We’re made to feel.” Basically emotions were things that were instinct, not logical.

“But there’s no connection.”

Travis did laugh, but it was short this time. “If you need one, then Ernest is your connection. Ernest loved him didn’t he? So much he’s willing to take that man’s name. What was his name?”

“Malek El-Amin.”

“Arabic? That’s new.”

Michael drank his water without answer.

“I see the prophecy unravels in more than one way,” Travis said then. He was now slumping his back against Michael’s shoulder and arm. “So many promises with angels. Did you know Malek means ‘angel’ in Arabic?” Michael shook his head. There have been enough promises he has made in the short span of hearing that prophecy to Will Solace. Normally he didn’t make oaths, vows or promises. “Wanna know something else?”

“What?”

“Connor and I was there.”

“Where?”

“With Will.”

Michael made the connection immediately. “It was given to all three of you?” Travis shrugged but Michael was already turning towards him, putting the cup down between his feet. “You were there when the Oracle of Delphi gave the prophecy?”

“We just kind of walked in on Will and Rachel talking. We thought he might be asking her out.” Travis shrugged.

“Were you really?”

“Will is…” Travis looked for a word as he sat up properly and separated from Michael. His back was still facing Michael now turning towards him. “He’s helpful and friendly. Son of Apollo and all that.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means a lot at Camp.”

“That’s why Romans are better.”

“Excuse me?” Travis twisted around and glared at him. Michael couldn’t help but burst into laughter, even if it was a weak and dry one. Some things just don’t change. “Greeks are awesome!”

“Calm yourself son of Hermes.”

“Check yourself son of Venus,” Travis snarled back.

Michael enjoyed Travis’ expressions too much. They were always so amusing. Sometimes he wondered if Travis was just a little overly dramatic just to give the effect.

“So what about Will Solace?”

“He’s a healer, since he’s not good at archery. He’s usually in the infirmary,” Travis shrugged. Then his eyes narrowed on Michael’s. “That means Nico di Angelo.”

“Ah, that I already figured,” Michael added.

Travis nodded, as if there was some kind of silent understanding between them. Michael wondered if Nico di Angelo and Will Solace’s relationship just wasn’t that obvious when it was. Or perhaps everyone was just that thick.

“But Will can be a bit dense sometimes. It’s hard to be the child of the god who self-proclaims himself as the picture of perfection,” Travis explained. Michael understood that. He was sure all gods thought themselves perfect. Granted, of what he knew with the last two demigod wars, the only god he could thus far say confidently was without blame was Lupa. Travis interrupted Michael’s thought again. “Anyways Will sorta has this thing for Nico, but he’s a bit… slow.” Michael could only agree. “So Connor and I figured he was probably trying to ask Rachel Dare out because you know, Apollo’s Oracle, girl, pretty girl…”

“Ah, yeah.”

“So Connor and I was going to act interference but Will stopped talking the moment we reached them and…” Travis waved his hand in the air like ‘ta-da’. Michael figured he meant the prophecy was delivered when they were together with Will at the moment. “We just figured it was Will because he was there first and we just chanced on the event.”

“Wait, so you mean three different people all with the same prophecy?” he asked. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Usually one prophecy was shared if anything.

“And around the same time Chiron received an urgent Iris message from Fern the Satyr.” Travis shrugged again. Michael heard of the little girl, saw her that extended week last January. She was a picture, that girl. Ernest reminded him of her the first time they met. Cheerful and cheeky, so very happy to have someone there and loved to laugh.

“Alethea Yang was in danger.”

“More or less. Her mother had died a couple months before that and she wasn’t…” Travis shrugged again. The subject of family seemed to have drawn Travis away from the conversation.

“So you’re saying,” Michael decided to wrap the conversation back to the main subject, “That I’m your angel?” He found himself smiling, especially when Travis took one glance at him and his entire face turned red.

“But well…” Travis shrugged. “We’re not supposed to try to figure out the prophecy.”

“It hinders it.”

Travis nodded. “But Percy—I know he thought we didn’t know, and I’m pretty sure Will’s the only one who doesn’t—he told Nico to take Connor’s place when we were coming back. We stopped by his family’s apartment because it was impossible to continue when we were all injured.” Travis cleared his throat as he pulled his legs into a crossed-leg seating position.

“Di Angelo.” In other words, the Angel. One couldn’t get more obvious with that.

Travis nodded. “I think that’s the reason Nico and Will had that break.”

“Break?”

“Will left camp and he won’t look for Nico unless Nico wants to see him,” Travis shrugged again but he looked more uncertain than before. It was obvious Travis felt bothered by Will’s problem. “I don’t think Nico will ever try to look for him and if he could…”

“Will’s no longer at camp.”

“And Will’s changing. He went into the police academy, but he’s been trying to become an EMT paramedic,” Travis explained to Michael again. Michael just nodded. “He was almost there too. Did you know that Will did PSEO and basically already graduated college last year?” Michael knew it was rhetoric but for the sake of it he shook his head. Travis just nodded again. Travis probably didn’t realize this was the most he’s talked with Michael. Although he wished it was on another subject besides Will Solace and the Ambassador. “He has this stupid…” Travis seemed to be searching for the word, cursing in various languages including French, “this stupid notion to act like the injured hero.”

“Ah…”

Michael didn’t really know what that meant. From the pointed glare Travis was giving him he had a feeling Travis took his “ah” as a kind of judgment.

“So you came drinking here?” Michael decided to ask so Travis would stop with the glaring.

Travis shrugged and didn’t answer. Seeing as the conversation was going to go nowhere from there Michael decided it was time to go to bed.

He stood and began to shed his clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed.”

“But you’re naked!” Travis nearly shrieked, drawing away from the edge of the bed. Then apparently he thought better of it and leapt out of the bed. Michael challenged his reaction with a raised eyebrow. “I mean you… what are you thinking of doing in bed?”

“That I’m going to sleep.” Michael folded his clothes and put them against the wall on the floor by his bed. He knew what Travis was thinking, but Michael wasn’t going to get any sleep if he kept having to put clothes on. His body heat was impossible to control, and added in that he shared the bed with Travis yesterday had made it worse.

“Wanna join me?” Michael asked as he folded a corner of the cover into a triangle for ease of access.

“Do I have to be naked?”

“Take off your jeans.”

“But…”

“Take them off. They’re uncomfortable in bed,” Michael demanded. He wasn’t going to take a no as an answer. What creature in their right mind slept in jeans anyways? Unless one was out in the wilderness he would understand, but if someone was at home they shouldn’t be making it a habit.

“But I’m…” Travis’ blush brightened across his cheeks, his hands stuck in his back pockets.

Michael couldn’t help himself when he understood why Travis felt hesitant. He grabbed the man and tossed him in bed, as he’d said he would earlier in the afternoon. Michael found himself pinning Travis down, but he allowed Travis a clear escape route in case it was another trigger.

His crotch was pressed close against Travis. He could feel the raw heat through the fabric of Travis’ jeans.

“I thought you said…” Travis was going to remind him what he’d said earlier in the morning.

To stop him Michael kissed him. A simple one, their lips touching and their mouth opening. He pulled away quickly, feeling scorched when he did.

“You lied.”

“I did not lie,” Michael replied. He moved his hand from Travis’ side to run his hand through Travis’ unkempt hair. “You’re going to tell me your safety word.”

“What?” Travis’ face turned completely pale. Michael laughed. “S-safety? D-Do I need that?”

“Yes,” Michael answered. His thumb rubbed at the corner of Travis’ lips. He wanted to kiss those lips badly. “In case you get another trigger like this morning. If it feels like you can’t handle it anymore I want you to say the word.”

“Okay.”

“Is that your word?”

Travis shook his head.

“Think about it.”

Michael didn’t wait for Travis to give him the word. He started nibbling at Travis’ jawline. He licked slowly from Travis’ ear across his jawline to his chin. He could feel Travis trembling beneath him. He loved the way Travis’ long, powerful legs wrapped around his hips.

“Ah…” Travis gasped and then moaned.

“Your word?” Michael gasped for his own hot breath. He couldn’t continue if he didn’t know the word.

“Please.”

He decided not to argue about that being a horrible safety word but he had a feeling Travis wasn’t very experienced. Sitting up on his knees he stripped Travis of his new jeans and threw them on the floor. He was about to take off Travis’ shirt but the guy was holding onto the hem tightly. It seemed he wanted to grip at it for comfort so he left the shirt.

“This image would be better,” Michael found his voice husky with desire as he spoke, staring down at Travis’ form beneath him, “If you were wearing my shirt.” He watched Travis turn even redder before those blue eyes moved under those light brown eyelashes to gaze at him. Michael felt himself harden with Travis’ gaze and felt his shoulders heat up and burn, aware how much those eyes were glued to his shaped muscles and figure. 

* * *

 

Travis felt his mouth go dry. He had a feeling Michael knew he was staring, taking every part of him. Travis has etched Michael’s image into his brain the few times he could, but this was the first time he’d ever seen it so… beautiful.

Without asking Travis reached up, his fingertips just barely touching the rippled abs tracing it down into his V-shaped pelvis.  Unless he sat up he wouldn’t be able to touch to his satisfaction.

He heard Michael such in a harsh breath, then grab his hand and pulled it forward as he leaned in towards Travis. His hand was pressed in the dark curls of Michael’s crotch, just above the hardening cock. Gods was that…

Travis found himself tensing up, which he did involuntarily. His legs wrapped around Michael’s hips pulled the man even closer.

“Scared?” Michael grinned through a choked laugh. Travis was glad Michael seemed just as bothered by their sudden physical intimacy as Travis was. He knew it wouldn’t mean anything once they were done, but if he could survive the act without any nightmares—if in fact he could bring back passionate memories—he would be grateful.

“You’re big.”

Michael raised a dark brow at him challengingly. The rhetoric question was there: _where am I_ not _big?_

Michael put his elbows just by Travis’ shoulder and head, leaning in. One hand reached down to play with his nipple. Travis had tried that before, he wasn’t stimulated by it. But then Michael’s head bent down and began to suck on it, his tongue laving and circling the areola.

Travis made a strained sound, one that sounded weird and… He was about to try and pull away when Michael lifted his head. Blowing a cool breath onto the saliva left on Travis’ skin Michael gave his nipple a quick peck before going for Travis’ collarbone. There he felt himself turn to goo. He groaned loudly with the way Michael licked, kissed, and ran his teeth against his collarbone.

Then a hand wrapped itself around Travis’ cock. He jerked, Michael was hot all over including his hands. Michael slowly pumped up and down. Travis groaned, moving his face to the side and biting on his fist.

“Fuck…” Travis pushed up, trying to feel more stimulation from Michael’s hand. He rarely masturbated, but when he had it was always a chore. This felt different—good. Better.

Groaning he searched for the pleasure of Michael’s hand, loved the way it tightened as it came down to Travis’ hilt and how Michael’s palm circled the tip before grasping his member again each time.

“Good?”

“Too good,” he rasped. Michael was too well practiced at this. Unless Travis was just too inexperienced. Normally he just kept pumping until the need was released or disappeared. “Ah!” he shouted when Michael’s hand went lower than the base of Travis’ cock to his balls. He groaned louder, biting his lip to stifle his cry when Michael played with them. He measured each individually, squeezing and pulling before his palm rubbed Travis’ balls up and down.

Gods what was that…? Did people do that? Was he weird for liking it?

“Good,” he heard Michael whisper into his ear. Travis closed his eyes and just felt as Michael leaned into him, rubbing him and stroking him.

“M-Michael…” he mumbled. He didn’t know what he was trying to beg for. He just knew that he didn’t want the ministration to stop.

“Touch me,” Michael rasped, voice sounding hollow.

“Touch you?”

Michael pumped his fist and Travis groaned. “ _Touch_ me.”

Travis moved one hand down, nervously following Michael’s muscles downwards. He found the tip of Michael’s cock and brushed his fingers over it. Michael jerked but recovered, busying himself by going at Travis’ neck and collarbone again. Travis couldn’t think.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Travis wasn’t afraid. To prove it he grabbed Michael’s member, only to be shocked by how hot it was. He moved up and down but could barely concentrate on pleasing Michael when Michael was doing three things at once. One hand was on his cock and balls, his mouth on Travis’ collarbone and neck, and the other hand had snaked to Travis’ back underneath the bed and was pushing from the base of his back to force him upwards. The ministration there manipulating Travis into moving his hips up and down in a rhythm.

“Keep going…” Michael said before going back to lightly nibbling at Travis’ collarbone again.

“I… I’m…” Travis didn’t know. He just knew he was going somewhere.

“Don’t stop.”

Travis used both hands and grabbed Michael’s cock. He moved up and down, trying to copy Michael’s strokes. “Can’t…”

Travis felt the bile trying to erupt from inside in. He let go and grabbed onto Michael’s shoulder, trying to anchor himself. Michael leaning in over him was starting to blend into the image of that man in the warehouse again.

“S-stop…”

“Travis,” Michael whispered into his ear. He shivered. Then he opened his eyes into the darkness. All he could see was Michael’s silhouette and it scared him. “Trust me.”

“I do…” But the fear was crawling all over his skin. The feeling of being dirty, of blood and semen and pain. He was seeing Lisa’s tied up broken image reflecting on him. His stomach churned as Michael’s hand kept moving.

Travis felt himself about to release but he was afraid. The images started flashing in his eyes. “Please!” he groaned. Before Travis knew it Michael had drawn away, getting off the bed immediately and all the heat around them died in a flash.

Travis never felt more abandoned.


	11. Living Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the belated post. Things happened, I've got a headache, sleep too long... Readjusting myself... Hope you all enjoy. This is more of an interlude chapter.

Michael wasn’t ready to be close to Travis again. He turned on his shower standing in the lukewarm spray with his hands spayed out against the wall. Taking deep breaths he calmed his nerves, forcing himself to cool down and his member to go limp.

When he turned off the shower and returned he found the bed empty and Travis missing from the apartment. Apparently the other man had dressed quickly and left right away.

Michael peeked out the window and saw a school bus with a Pegasus painted on its side appear out of nowhere and stop at the bus stop on the corner. Travis—in his jeans, white t-shirt and sneakers was getting on. Michael didn’t bother questioning much. Travis ran, end of story.

He watch the Pegasus bus take to the air and disappear into the sky.

Michael collapsed on his bed, his hands under his head and laid there. It smelled like his soap and shampoo but something was distinctively different. Travis. It was strange to know Travis had a kind of scent. Michael had never bothered noticing anyone’s smell before unless they didn’t shower, had on perfume or cologne. Travis’ scent was natural though, and Michael was drifting off to sleep with it.

* * *

 

…

It was the start of the new semester. September. Travis had gotten all of his classes in on time—thankfully his transfer went through—and he’d just moved into the house he was going to be sharing. Travis hadn’t met his roommate because the guy was moving in while Travis started his first day.

His first day of classes were… impossible. The University of Minnesota was gigantic, which he loved. The problem? So was the population. He couldn’t find anywhere to sit unless he was in a classroom, and he kept getting odd looks thrown his way whether in lecture or just walking down the street.

By the time Travis had made the walk to the house he was going to share with some guy he didn’t know he was officially done. Travis had walked into the apartment and slammed the door, storming towards his bedroom without really noticing anything.

He sat on his bed after throwing his backpack at his closet wall. Taking deep breaths he tried to remind himself that it was the first day and it took time for him to get used to a new place and new people. It sure took time for him to get used to Camp Half-Blood when he was younger.

“Seriously?” he heard a voice ask, almost annoyed.

Travis’ head popped up from staring at the ground. Was that…?

Michael Kahale stood leaning against Travis’ bedroom door frame, arms folded to his chest, staring at Travis. Travis gaped back. How in Hades…?

“You’re not going to throw a tantrum every time you go to school, are you?” Michael asked him.

“What are you…?” Travis found himself standing but then dropping back onto his bed. He wasn’t sure what to do but he knew he didn’t want Michael close to him. He was still smarting from Spring Break.

“Michael Kahale, 23. Roommate. Hobby: clubbing. Sexual orientation: pansexual.” Michael raised a brow, probably expecting Travis to introduce himself as a formality. Travis wanted to kick Michael in the balls.

Instead he grumbled, “Travis Stoll. 20. Student.”

“So I see you didn’t really bring much,” Michael pointed out as his eyes scanned Travis’ room. Travis glared at him. “I’ve just got a few boxes,” Michael shrugged at him. Was he being judged for packing only the things he would need? What was wrong with having just clothes, and the essentials? Mere months ago Michael was the same.

Travis walked to his door and glared until Michael stepped into the hallway. Then he slammed the door closed and stomped back to his single bed. He yanked off his shoes, socks, his jeans and shirt at the foot of the bed and found refuge under the covers.

It wasn’t until his cell phone rang and he answered that he got out of his bed. He’d been informed he was set for an interview for the student job he’d applied to before the semester began. Considering that Travis was going to school under loan—and a bit of his father’s help—he needed a job.

Now all Travis had to do was go to orientation and get the training done. If he could manage he would probably pick up as many shifts as possible for a security monitor. Whatever that job entailed. Travis was used to walking, and he figured he had pretty good reactions to much of anything else. It couldn’t be that difficult.

If anything Travis had not an incentive to work his butt off.

 

It had been a month by the time Travis managed to realize it was October. He groaned, realizing Connor’s birthday was coming up. He’d been picking up way too many shifts. He loved the escorting, and he was doing relatively well with his classes seeing as he’d dropped his early morning math course he didn’t need.

“Want dinner?” he heard Michael ask him.

“No, just let me die on your couch,” he moaned. He’d somehow spent an entire month too busy to notice Michael at all. Granted he noticed the other man enough to know he’d bought a couch not long after moving in, and he had a feeling it was because Travis usually didn’t make it to his bed by the time he got into the house.

“Sleepy?”

Michael was sitting on the couch, sharing the seat with the part of Travis’ body lying there. A big and warm hand brushed the hair out of Travis’ face. He needed to get it cut soon. Maybe that place near that other place would help. Travis really couldn’t think, since roads and maps which usually came easy for him were disappearing from his mind.

“Just tired,” he yawned, turning to lie on his back.

“Working too much. How are your classes?”

“Start at 11.” Travis hadn’t thought twice on answering. He just did, as if it was the most normal thing to do with Michael.

“Any online course?”

“Just one.”

“Ah.”

He liked Michael’s hands in his hair.

“Come eat.”

“Isn’t it 3AM?” Travis asked him instead.

“Came back from clubbing,” Michael shrugged. It was a Friday night, he was certain Michael would be screwing someone right about now. He went clubbing on the weekends a lot but he always came home without a date or a hookup. “Come on. Eat something and sleep.”

“I’ve gotta do an early shift later…” Travis grumbled.

“When?”

Travis had to think about it. “Seven? It’s mostly desk.”

“Alright.”

Travis found himself seated at the kitchen table with scrambled eggs and toast on a plate for him.

“Breakfast food?”

“You’re probably going to have another apple before you run out the door at 6:30 again,” Michael replied as he was eating his own plate. Travis wasn’t going to argue that he hadn’t had a descent breakfast in a lifetime. Not since Spring Break. Travis groaned, not from the heavenly taste, but from the unintentional memory of that night. Travis didn’t want to think about it.

Travis was off the rest of Sunday so he was glad his escort was finished at 2AM. He got back just before 3AM, had been a bit too tired but still undressed and gotten into the shower. It woke him up but also made him dizzy. He should have been careful with the heat of the spray and how long he stood under it.

Travis tripped in the hallway from being too woozy. He groaned as he heard rushed footsteps from Michael’s bedroom door towards him.

“Travis.”

“I’m okay…” he grumbled. He wasn’t really.

“Still a child,” Michael sighed. Travis started when Michael picked him up in his arms with ease. He protested immediately as Michael carried him like a princess, and not to his own bedroom but to Michael’s.

“You’re naked.” Travis had just been set on the giant, comfy bed with nothing more than the towel wrapped around his waist when Michael climbed on top of him.

“What’s wrong with that?” Michael asked him, straddling Travis’ hips. Travis didn’t want to look up at him anytime soon. He knew what would happen if he did. The same thing that happened a few months ago in Michael’s studio apartment in Salt Lake City.

“You… I’m…” Travis lost all the words in all the languages he’d studied. This happened a lot with Michael, although he’d thought he’d been cured of that.

He heard Michael’s chuckle and felt a kiss on his cheek. Michael leaned into him and Travis held his breath. He didn’t want to move. Not at all. Didn’t really know what to do actually. What if another disaster happened?

“Safety word?” he managed to squeak out.

He felt the smile against his collarbone where Michael had been busy laving on. “Mm…” Michael groaned before removing him mouth. “As long as it isn’t ‘please’ again.”

“Why not?”

“Sounds like you’re wanting more,” Michael explained, his mouth moving to graze his teeth against Travis’ shoulder. Travis groaned out loud, feeling himself drop into the bed as Michael tested his teeth against Travis’ skin. Was that weird? To like someone almost biting him? Maybe it was just him.

“Please…” he found himself moaning when Michael drew away to straddle his hips again.

“See what I mean,” Michael smiled down at him.

Travis’ eyes went down, and all parts of him was worried and blushing. He knew he was hard, but Michael’s member was flaccid.

Michael’s hands suddenly touched at Travis’ abs. Self-conscious he managed to twist around to the side and hid his body. He didn’t have nice muscles like Michael. Wasn’t well toned anywhere. His stomach was mostly flat.

“What’s wrong now?” Michael asked, his voice sounding a bit more annoyed that concerned. “I had to wait a long time for this moment since you don’t work tomorrow.” Travis just shook his head. “You still can’t manage to string up more than five words to me. Which is a huge step back considering where we are at this point.”

Travis didn’t really know what he was saying so he didn’t say anything at all.

“What’s your safety word, Travis?”

He regretted it. Regretted it a lot. Without thinking, forgetting he spoke his mind without realizing it sometimes, he said, “I love you.”

Michael stared down at him for what felt like forever. He felt a hole slowly burning apart his skin. Travis wanted to run by Michael had him pinned down, straddling Travis’ hips with his powerful legs.

“I know.”

Travis wanted to punch him. He didn’t. Nothing was solved that way. Michael didn’t feel the same way. How could he when any man or woman would fall on their knees and worship him so long as he smiled. Hades, Travis knew he would do the same.

“But you don’t trust me,” Michael said. He got off Travis then. Travis watched where he laid as Michael slipped on his jeans and pulled on a t-shirt. “Get some sleep.”

“You?”

With a heavy and annoyed sigh Michael looked up at the ceiling. Then he walked to his bedroom door. “I’m going to find someone who doesn’t care that I’m a son of Venus.” Then he walked out. 

* * *

 

Michael knew it was wrong to lay blame on anything for Travis. He only wanted Travis to hurt a little, because it annoyed Michael that at every turn Travis doubted Michael’s fidelity. Yes, he had a lot of experience. How couldn’t he? It wasn’t like Michael asked to have attractive pheromone. He couldn’t turn it on and off. His first time wasn’t wonderful either, despite popular belief.

Michael had tied on his boots when he felt someone approaching him from behind. He should have remembered Travis was practiced with sneaking up on someone and stepping soundlessly but he didn’t. His head was too filled with not moving on the urge to ravage the guy.

“Ow!”

Michael had Travis flipped onto the floor and pinned, his leg wrapped around Travis’ knees to lock them, one arm holding down a shoulder and another pinning Travis’ wrist. It hadn’t been anything he learned from anywhere, it had been improvised. That’s what one did after too many years fighting people and not monsters.

“What do you want?” Michael groaned, forcing himself a good amount apart from Travis. “It’s dangerous.”

“ _You’re_ dangerous.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Whatever,” Travis rasped. His voice sounded like it was disappearing again, like when he cried too much and couldn’t speak. Michael remembered that, because half the time Travis was with Michael in Salt Lake City had been Travis crying. The other half pure torture of the lustful kind.

“What is it?” he asked as they both stood. Michael grabbed his keys from his other coat pocket, his wallet was in his jeans.

“Are you really going…?” Travis’ voice disappeared again. This time because he didn’t want to actually ask.

With a sigh Michael was unable to hide he peered down at Travis. Those blue eyes stared up at him, a bit too innocent, a bit too unguarded. He could see the instilled uncertainty in them.

“I will answer any of your questions if you can manage to say more than five words in a sentence without stuttering,” Michael insisted. Travis bit his lower lip again. He looked as if he was actually considering, or preparing himself. Michael had a strong patience but he didn’t want to wait for anything. If he couldn’t have what he wanted then he didn’t need it at all.

When Michael was able to leave Travis pulled on his tee-shirt. He spared a glance back, taking in that all Travis had on still was the bath towel around his waist. Tempting.

“When you choose someone to love are you faithful?” Travis asked him.

Michael turned to answer, as it seemed it took Travis a great deal of courage to ask at all. He wasn’t about to cut the man off for that.

“Yes.”

Travis nodded. Looked at his feet and thought of another question. He looked up again and asked, “Do you ever love more than one person at the same time?”

Michael shrugged. “Never happened before. But if both people prefer an exclusive relationship I would make a choice.”

Then Travis asked right away, “How do you measure someone’s love?”

“Love is immeasurable, and you’ll be a fool to think you can measure or contain it in anyway,” he answered back. He would know, being Venus’ son. He’d witnessed it too many countless times. The recounted stories of Aeneid and Odysseus was enough proof of that. Not to mention the Trojan War was because of Aphrodite’s promise to Paris of the love of the most beautiful mortal woman.

“Then how can you choose between two people you love at the same time?” Travis asked. He heard the quiver in Travis’ voice, knew he was losing confidence. Knew that Michael was not putting his fears at ease. He didn’t need to defend himself in front of Travis Stoll.

“Simply put,” Michael decided to give him the harsh truth, “by seeing which one of them love me truly.” Travis made a face as if he didn’t understand. Travis didn’t. His forte was not in love or relationships, it was in pranks and lies.

“So you’ll choose to love the one who truly loves you, but you just said you can’t measure love so how would you know?” Travis asked. The man was bristling. It was chilly without clothes on. The temperature in the house was set to somewhere around 67 degrees Fahrenheit, but he knew the reason why Travis looked like he was ruffling feathers. _He_ was trying to test Michael’s logic.

For some reason Michael heard his mother laughing in his mind. Chuckling, amused. As though he was faced with a question that broke his logic apart.

Michael gave up the pretense of leaving. “Put on some clothes,” he said softly as he walked to the couch. He collapsed onto it and grabbed the cushion that came with it when he bought it. Michael considered suffocating himself but decided against that. He still had a job to do.

When Travis finally sat down with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt next to Michael he hadn’t thought much of it. Only until he realized Travis’s leg was jiggling like he had RLS that he bothered to notice. Travis was in no state to be worrying at all, considering what he’d been through in his childhood and what happened in Salt Lake City, Michael was putting him through an ordeal.

“A long time ago,” Michael started. Travis seemed to stifle a laugh, probably because Michael started with one of the most cliché lines to tell a story. He cleared his throat to get Travis’ attention again but he spared the guy a side smile to calm his nerves, “When I was young—despite the things I’ve had encountered—took the chance to believe I was in love with someone.” Travis’ mouth made an ‘Ooh’ but it was silent. Michael didn’t bother to show he was sad or any such feelings. “I believed it was the kind that Jason Grace and Piper McLean have now. There are ups and downs, things Jason could do wrong but could always try to right. Things that are never ‘unforgivable’, where Piper will always come to love him.” Michael sighed, he didn’t want to go any further in that explanation. “Anyways,” Michael continued, this time he didn’t dare look at Travis. He hated seeing pity. It was just impossible when a child of the love goddess saw pity in the eyes of others when it came to relationships. “I was given a harsh truth that how I can love someone with all my being, someone can love with less than with a ‘hello’. I found that my cohort would risk their lives for myself and each other, but the person I thought I loved would not so much as lift a finger at the thought of my death.”

“Was that person you loved Augus— _Octavian_?”

 Now Michael was the one making faces. “How in all of Rome did you come up with Octavian in that story?” he nearly shouted. He felt like slugs were crawling on his skin, and Michael wasn’t one to feel grossed out by much.

Travis shrugged innocently. “I mean…” he started but then his voice died out again. “Well…” He busied himself tugging on the hem of his shirt.

Michael felt disgusted. He wanted to shower and scrub his skin raw. “It was a woman, Travis! What are you thinking?” He felt like retching out his previous meal.

“How would I know?” Travis pouted at him, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back on the couch and looking defensive. Michael groaned. “He _was_ your sponsor. I don’t know what that entails but from what gossip I heard it basically meant you were his dog.”

Michael felt himself growl. An animalistic streak in him rising. One he learned from Lupa. He zeroed in on Travis, daring him to try and call Michael a _dog_ again. Travis just glared back at him but made no further comments.

“ _He_ wasn’t my ‘sponsor’. It was his family,” Michael decided to enlighten Travis through clenched teeth. He could barely control himself with the notion of _ever_ using his body as a way to secure his position in the legion. He was furious that Travis would think so.

“Oh.” He could hear the unsaid apology in the way Travis turned away and scooted to the other end of the couch, as far away from Michael.

Deciding he didn’t need any pity, or “sorry” or considerations in such ways, Michael moved until he was so close to Travis all that was between them was the fabric of their clothes. Travis looked stifled and stuffed, face burning red, looking so bothered he didn’t realize he was worrying his bottom lip again.


	12. Feeling and Wanting

Travis didn’t know what to say or do. He’d just insulted Michael again. This time worse than spring break when he’d used his safety word to make Michael stop. Travis had wanted it, had known he needed to get past it, but he’d used his safety word because he was scared and he wanted to test Michael’s restraints. More so because he was scared, but he had a feeling he could have pushed through it. He would never know though.

Now he had just outright insulted Michael by insinuating that Michael had used his natural appeal to get what he needed.

And what was wrong with that if Michael had? Didn’t Travis use the abilities he’d received from his father to his advantage? He and Connor were cunning and clever like their father. They were good at pranks but also good at spotting things out of place. They were good at messing things up simply because they could instinctively know how something worked by touch—like a lock. It was hypocrisy to give Michael any fault for looking good and being good in bed. He oozed charm, had control of his voice and was a natural master of romance because his mother was Venus, but that didn’t make him… Travis bit his tongue to mentally stop himself.

Finding the words Travis finally spoke up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. Although I have.” Michael was sitting impossibly close for him to consider it anything less than some kind of sign.

“Are there other questions?”

Travis thought on it, trying to trace back to their original questions and answers. He thought of one and without thinking blurted out, “Is what happened why you say I _think_ I love you?”

This time Michael shrugged. Travis waited for an actual answer. Michael didn’t give him one.

Finally Michael said, “You yourself said children of Venus have the potential to break hearts like the children of Aphrodite—who make it an initiation. Do you honestly think I could believe in _true_ love when everyone is so easily charmed? You yourself knew nothing about me before the war.” Michael wasn’t looking at Travis. His eyes were trained ahead where the wall and the floor met. “You still don’t.”

Travis squeezed himself off the couch, struggling to balance his legs from tripping over themselves. He walked further towards the front door to give both of them space. They _needed_ space.

“Hit a nerve?” Michael singsong to him. Was he enjoying this?

“I never asked to be like this,” Travis growled as he twisted back at Michael. He was going crazy, his gut was twisting just looking at the confidence in that lazy smile on that bronze god-like beauty of a man. “I never asked to be broken—Shut up!” he said before Michael could open his mouth to object that he wasn’t broken. He didn’t need someone else’s assurance. He has always known what he needed. To _feel_ whole. “That man _took_ something from me that I can never get back, Mike. He stole it.” Travis turned around for a moment and laughed to himself. Miserably. Then turned back to Michael. “Funny how he could steal from a child of Hermes. Ironic, really. You know what’s worse? Connor. Impatient, impulsive—we kinda both are—but he was… he is my little brother.” He tried to shrug it off.

“He walked in.”

“He tried to kill the man,” Travis admitted. He felt his hand shiver. The memory came back. The scar Connor hid would always because Travis wasn’t strong good enough to prevent what happened. “We were the boys who cried wolf. Thankfully the police officer wasn’t such an idiot, but he did drag his feet. Connor would never be the same about men. I’ll never be the same about women. Do you understand?” Travis didn’t want to go into more detail. He just needed Michael to know. “Do you get it, Mike?”

“I can imagine,” was all Michael said. Travis was thankful for that. Not ‘I understand’ or ‘yeah I get it’ or some other lies. It was the truth, that Michael could only imagine it. He was sure though, that Michael had his own dark childhood. He was very jaded about love.

Michael then questioned, “But why are you telling me?”

“Not because I trust you to keep it a secret,” Travis shrugged. Whether it was a secret or not anymore didn’t matter. Travis didn’t care. What mattered was that he needed to give Michael the reason. Reminiscing about his trauma was not something Travis did willingly. “I believe you can help me overcome it.”

“You want to use me.” Travis could hear that it wasn’t a question. He didn't try to respond. He was, more or less, trying to use Michael. “How exactly do you think I’m supposed to help you overcome this?”

“Michael,” Travis looked him in the eyes. It was hard to do considering the way Michael was glowering. He chewed the inside of his mouth. He’d insulted Michael again. “You know how difficult it was to be 14 and have a girlfriend you tried to make out with but then you end up having a panic attack?” Michael shrugged. “Neither do I. Connor was with his girlfriend before the Battle of Manhattan, some…” Travis tried to find a better word but couldn’t so he said, “bullies showed up. They pushed him up against a wall, he freaked out. Could barely breathe. If I hadn’t gotten there he would never have recovered.”

“What’s that got to do with you and me?” Michael asked.

“Once,” Travis sighed out loud, because he was going to have to admit it. He knew he had to. “He broke up with his girlfriend. She tried to get revenge.”

“She came onto you.”

Travis shrugged. “I blacked out, when I came to Connor was holding onto me. He was yelling at his ex. My girlfriend—ex-girlfriend was there.” Travis found it hard to swallow now. His throat felt too dry. He paced the length of the living room in front of Michael. “We broke up. Then there was the Battle, and then the freaking out with Gaea.”

“You don’t want to black out again?” Michael raised an eyebrow.

“I thought I would never be able to have a relationship until I saw you,” Travis announced finally. Gods this was embarrassing. It was like he was butchering his own love confession all over again. “I could barely kiss my ex-girlfriend before we broke up. But then I saw you, and I…” Travis stopped himself. He felt his face heat up. This was so embarrassing. “I never thought I _could_ like guys. You were literally my angel.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“What?”

“Angel. I’m not an angel.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “If the name fits.”

“Travis,” Michael growled.

He signed. “Fine, whatever. Calling you that was better than saying you were better looking than Adonis,” Travis said. His hands flew to his mouth immediately. He didn’t… did he?

Michael’s brow lifted in curiosity. “Come, sit,” Michael waved him over. Travis shook his head. “Come sit,” he commanded. Travis inched a bit closer to the couch. He felt his skin heating up in embarrassment. Before he could sit on the other side of the couch Michael pulled him onto his lap. “Now tell me about comparing me to a beauty of legend you’ve never seen.”

“I actually saw a statue of him once on Olympus,” Travis managed to mutter. He needed water. Preferably to drown himself. “He was… Well I can see why Aphrodite couldn’t stop herself.”

“More interested in you having gone to Olympus,” Michael whispered into his ear. Travis was sitting between Michael’s legs now, and he felt closed in and without escape. Michael’s hands were wrapped around his waist, tugging him in close.

“A story for another day.”

“I’ll remember that,” Michael assured him. Travis grimaced but nodded. “So tell me again how Adonis’ beauty cannot compare?”

“Well, because he’s beautiful,” Travis shrugged.

“I’m not getting it.”

Travis groaned, leaned back against Michael and tossed his head back against the man’s shoulder. The only good thing about Michael was that he was big in all places. Perfectly shaped compared to Travis.

“You’re not _beautiful_ , Michael,” Travis finally said. He heard the rasp in his own voice.

“Well that’s a load off my shoulders,” Michael said sarcastically. “I kept getting told so many times in a day I forgot I wasn’t.”

Travis smacked Michael’s head to chide him. “You’re hot. Handsome. Sexy. Mm…” Travis groaned, closing his eyes as he thought of seeing Michael walk down the battlefield of Half-Blood Hill that day half a decade ago. He would’ve been surprised if _no one_ had stepped away from him during his trek towards Octavian. “Honestly, my first boner.” 

* * *

 

Michael found himself laughing, but it wasn’t at Travis. If Michael had the heart to love someone he had a feeling he would be falling deep for Travis. He’d gone from turned on, to annoyed and angry, to insulted, to slightly concerned, insulted again, and turned on again. _His first boner_. Gods of Olympus that was the first time anyone who wanted to be his partner had _ever_ said that.

“I meant, you know, when it wasn’t happening on its own for no reason,” Travis added quickly. Then he blushed so red even his neck was burning up. Michael found himself smiling wide, thankful Travis’s back was to him so he wouldn’t see. He hadn’t smiled just because he was purely happy in ages.

“I can tell,” Michael said in a low volume. He moved a hand from Travis’ abdomen to his crotch. How could sweatpants be so convenient and so annoyingly in-the-way at the same time? “You wearing underwear?”

“Stop…” Travis groaned. It wasn’t a scared plea, it was a sensual one. There was a tingle of annoyance in his tone, but Michael just kissed his neck to try and sooth that.

“Tell me you want this,” Michael rasped. All he was doing so far was rubbing Travis’ front, but the guy was already rock hard. “That you’re not going to ask me to walk away.” He needed Travis to _want_ this.

Travis shook his head, and Michael didn’t know how to take that as an answer. “Little scared, a bit testy first time…” Travis groaned when Michael squeezed. The balls of Travis’ feet dug into the carpet as his hips lifted off his seat. Michael definitely liked how Travis’ innocence made him so very natural at this. It meant he was _feeling_ the ecstasy, not seeking it out. And Michael wasn’t even really doing anything more than groping him.

“And earlier?”

“Wasn’t thinking.”

He couldn’t fault Travis for blurting out his feelings, but it had drawn Michael away.

“You were scared.”

“Maybe.” Travis moaned, his legs quivered against Michael’s when he sat down on his seat between Michael’s legs again. It seemed he couldn’t decide whether to open wide to give Michael better access or to close them up so he could grind himself against Michael’s hand. At the current moment all Travis was doing, without knowing, was thrusting towards Michael’s hand.

“Feel good?”

“Stop playing with me,” Travis grumbled. Now he sounded annoyed.

“Kiss me and I’ll make you cum.” Michael had been half sure Travis would walk away. It was never good to try and push an insecure inexperienced partner to do anything more than to feel the moment the first time. He’d expected to get struck at a few times, spat at, hated and be told to leave in the morning. Instead Travis had turned his head immediately, threaded his fingers through Michael’s hair and yanked his head close for an open-mouth kiss.

He took what he could. He thrust his tongue in and inwardly rejoiced for Travis’ gasps and moans. The kiss was long and passionate. While they kissed he’d managed to lift Travis back onto his lap, shimmied the man’s sweats down back his crouch, and spread Travis’ legs over his. It was a compromising, wide-open position. One Travis would have probably freaked out over if he wasn’t busy seeking Michael’s tongue.

Michael realized, when Travis suddenly climaxed after a few pumps, that Travis hadn’t been scared. The nightmare hadn’t resurfaced itself. He thought about what had been different, but it was very clear what was.

The position was different. Michael wasn’t on top of him, looming over him in any way. Michael was underneath him. Travis also made an effort to be a part of the experience, taking cues rather than being asked or told like the first time.

“Sorry, it’s been awhile,” Travis rasped a hot breath against his cheeks. “I’ll…” Travis fell asleep slumped in Michael’s arm on the couch before finishing. He was glad for it. Travis hadn’t gotten a good glance at Michael’s member the first time or earlier, and if he saw Michael’s—which he would say was relatively average—cock he might’ve been intimidated. First-timers were usually very afraid of a “big” cock or very attracted to it. He didn’t want to find Travis was the former.

Gathering Travis into his arms Michael carried Travis past his to the end of the hall where Michael’s bedroom was. He cleaned Travis up and tidied up his sweatpants and tee-shirt. Michael stripped out of his clothes, folded them on top of the drawer and climbed into bed next to Travis.


	13. Surprise Stoll Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies it felt like forever to get this chapter uploaded. I've been busy. This isn't that hugely important of a chapter... okay, well... it is sorta important I guess?  
> And for those who are wondering, yes Connor does get his own story for the Demigod Boys Love series. His probably won't intertwine with "Angel of Solace" or "Angel for the Traveler" --but who knows. I'm still searching for his pair ... whose name would probably have nothing to do with "angel" but eh.

Connor arrived early. Just a few hours since Michael had gone to bed with Travis. He hadn’t heard anyone coming in, but Michael was used to Travis’ silent footsteps by now. _Too_ quiet usually meant a Stoll was nearby. It was the lock clicking in the silence before morning that got Michael really stirring. He didn’t want to move away from Travis in his bed though, because holding Travis had felt right and comfortable.

Michael moved away slowly, dropped himself to the floor and reached under his bed. Grabbing the collapsible javelin he’d commissioned before leaving New Rome from where he’d kept it hidden he moved onto his knees. Only extending the javelin halfway into a sword-like length he took a crouching stance as the door opened.

Connor Stoll glared in the darkness first at the sleeping Travis and then Michael in his nakedness. He snarled. Michael growled.

When Connor did lunge at him Michael skillfully swung as he sidestepped out of the way. He gained more impact with his strike since he propelled himself upwards from where he was crouching.

It was a square hit in the gut that got Connor coughing. He fell onto his knees wheezing for breath before managing to stand up again.

“Gods, Connor,” Travis first grumbled, kicking the covers off. He seemed annoyed, Michael kept an eye on Connor who was shooting daggers at Michael with his eyes. When Travis finally seemed more awake as he sat up he growled next, “What in the name of Zeus are you doing here?”

“Birthday,” Connor grinned wolfishly. Gods, Michael’s patience was being tried. Was this some kind of punishment?

“It’s a Sunday, Connor!” Travis groaned, collapsing back onto one of Michael’s pillow and burying himself under Michael’s blanket.

“Yea, so? Bellero still owes me 40 free rides,” Connor argued. Michael was wondering who this personal driver was. Perhaps the Pegasus painted school bus guy. “Come on, I even brought back one of Leo’s new inventions.”

Travis’s arm popped out from under the blanket-worm-bundle and waved his brother to leave the room. “Later!” came a muffled groan.

“Why are you two in the same bed now?” Connor asked with a heavy exhale. He tapped his foot on the floor steadily, arms folded to his chest as he waited.

Travis suddenly flung the blanket away again, this time looking around to inspect the bedroom. With a pale mortified face (which was perfectly complimented with the moonlit darkness of Michael’s room) Travis gaped over at Michael. Then his face flushed, he drew back to the edge of the bed as he took in Michael’s nakedness.

“Travis!” Michael called out to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards Michael before he fell off the bed. He internally sighed. Life was going to get difficult if Travis didn’t get used to Michael’s “charm” any time soon.

“Get off him!” Connor growled.

“You’re not going to die Stoll,” Michael growled. He still didn’t like being attacked in his own territory, but he was going to hold back seeing as Connor Stoll was Travis’ brother. He was going to fight back if necessary though.

“Seeing as you put my brother through a lot, I think I’ve got every right to neuter you, Kahale,” Connor sneered.

“Want to test that out?” Michael goaded. He grabbed his collapsible javelin from off the bed where he’d dropped it. Connor pulled his bronze knife out from his ankle holster and took his fighting stance. Michael kept his sword-length extension and clicked the button that secured the sharp tip from extending out.

“Today’s a blessing, I get to kill you right off,” Connor grinned. That grin was almost murderous. Fortunately for Connor, Michael didn’t kill unless he was in actual battle or hunting.

“You two are really going to fight while I’m in the middle of this battlefield?” Travis asked in a monotone. Connor looked first and Michael took the advantage. He dropped the javelin and lunged at the younger Stoll with a right hook.

* * *

 

Travis wanted to kill them. Normally he was supposed to be the child. Connor’s actions he understood, but why in all Olympus had Michael retaliated? Gods, he was dealing with infants.

“Damn that was a good punch,” Connor mumbled. His cheek was sporting a swelling and a redness that would probably have bruised—that wouldn’t have been the biggest problem—if Travis hadn’t tried to hold back Michael’s lightning punch. The blow hadn’t been as severed.

Travis remembered seeing Michael split a log in half just by throwing that lightning punch. Those bulging muscles were not for nothing. They were powerful. He was surprised at all that Michael had such control over his strength.

“He could have broken your jaw,” Travis chided his brother with a hiss. He threw whatever ice cubes were left in the ice cube tray from the freezer into a ziplock bag angrily. “Grow up a little, Connor!” he grumbled next, mostly embarrassed with what his brother witnessed than annoyed with what happened.

Connor looked like a kicked puppy when Travis sat down at the table next to him. His broad shoulders slumped, hands between his thighs holding the edge of his seat. That was Connor’s regretful pose, his embarrassed pose, his bashful pose as well as his reflecting pose. It was something Travis had never attempted or will ever duplicate. The sad puppy look.

“Sorry,” Connor started to say as he looked up at Travis. Travis took the opportunity to put the ziplock of ice on Connor’s cheek. His brother hissed from the sting and yanked his head back. “That hurts,” he moaned.

“You’re lucky Michael pulls his punches,” Travis reminded him.

“You mean _you_ pull his punches?” Connor gave him a sly smile. Trust his brother to find some kind of joke there. Travis had literally tried to pull back Michael’s punch. “I am sorry, you know,” Connor said, putting his hand over Travis’s, pressing the bag of ice closer to his swelling cheek.

“For what? Walking in?” Travis asked sarcastically.

Connor shook his head. “I know you’re scared, Travis,” Connor said in a low, hushed voice. Those similar blue eyes were looking up at Travis’ own. “What that bastard tried to do…”

“Connor,” Travis rasped, looking down instead of at his brother. “Don’t bring it up.” He was shaking his head to try and dislodge the memory.

“I’m sorry I left you alone.” Connor tugged on his arm. Travis bit on his lip to try and keep himself in control. The memories were coming back. “It was my fault… That you…”

“Shush,” Travis gasped. He took deep breaths, trying his best to calm himself. “Don’t…”

“Travis, I know you believe you love this guy because he was the first guy you’ve ever been attracted to,” Connor said hastily. His younger brother grabbed the side of his head, forcing Travis too look back up into his eyes. “I know you, Travis. You love him, but that guy, he can’t love you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Travis squeezed out before ripping himself from the proximity of his brother. Just confirming what Connor said near broke him apart. He knew what Michael did with him wasn’t out of anything but lust and curiosity. The guy might care about him but sure didn’t love Travis. “You think I expected him here? I came here to get away.” Travis knew exactly what he’d expected when he decided to transfer to the University of Minnesota, he hadn’t counted on Michael Kahale showing up out of nowhere.

“So tell him to leave.”

“It’ll hurt,” Travis admitted. He couldn’t look his brother in the eye.

“And suffering?” Connor asked. He put his hand on Travis’ shoulder, a gesture to give him strength.

“Life is suffering.”

“Going Buddhist, there?” Connor teased him. Travis just sighed. Trust his brother to be protective and maddeningly hilarious while doing so. Connor hissed when Travis pressed the ziplock ice bag again his cheek again. “Stop that!” he snapped at Travis.

“Oh, my bad. Did I get you were it sores?” Travis asked innocently sarcastic. Connor rolled his eyes, took the bag and kept it on his cheek as he turned away. “I thought so.” Travis moved to the refrigerator to find something for breakfast.

“Oh, hell no, Travis!” Connor jumped out of his seat again. The chair clattered to the floor as Travis turned around from the open refrigerator. He knew what was coming up next. He lorded over it actually. “I am _not_ eating your godforsaken food for my birthday celebration.”

“Your birthday isn’t even for another two weeks,” Travis argued. He schooled his face into an annoyed one rather than a gloating one. “And you came out of nowhere, disturbed my sleep—and day of rest—so you _are_ going to eat my godforsaken food.”

“Calling that monstrous invention food was being polite,” Connor snarled. His noses scrunched up as if he could already smell and taste the disaster.

“Shut up and sit down,” Travis ordered his brother instead. With a groan Connor righted the chair and sat down. He could feel the resigned but hateful glare trying to burn holes into the back of his head as he cooked.

Connor made a face when Travis put the plate of scrambled eggs with hot sauce on top, mushrooms on the side, overcooked bacon and biscuit in front of him. He watched as Connor started poking his food with his fork as Travis sat down with his own plate.

“Where Mike go?” Connor asked as a way to avoid eating. Michael be called ‘Mike’ was odd to him. He’d never heard anyone call him that without being silently glared down before.

He moved his thought back to the food. Travis purposely didn’t cook his best. He liked the fact that the improvement of his cooking was something Connor didn’t know in the year they’d spent mostly apart.

“Morning exercise.” Travis couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. On the rare moments he did wake up early Travis loved seeing Michael return from his morning routine.

“I hope I’m incapable of that goofy expression.” Connor was shooting daggers at him. Travis couldn’t even bring himself to respond as his brother kicked him in the shin and frowned at the food on his plate.

“Mind sharing?”

Travis froze up as Michael was suddenly looming behind him, leaning in as those long fingers grabbed the overcooked bacon on Travis’ plate. Travis wanted to object because it wasn’t his best (or his worse, as that was Connor’s plate) and he didn’t want Michael experiencing some kind of shock.

“You…” Travis lost his voice as Michael put the crispy bacon in his mouth and chewed the entire thing all at once. Did the guy have no gag reflex?

“Is it… unique?” Connor questioned with a curious tone of suggestion. Travis immediately shot a glare at Connor. “Distinctive taste? Not like how grandma used to make it?”

“What?” Michael asked after swallowing. A hand was suddenly at the back of his neck, running fingers through Travis’ short hair. There wasn’t an answer so Michael shrugged. “You like hot sauce with your eggs?” Michael asked when he peered down again, he sounded curious and a little breathy. Travis fought back the shiver that threatened to course through him with that thought.

“No, it’s there to burn off your taste buds,” Connor intercepted the question. Michael was taking Travis’ hand with the fork and scooping some eggs into his mouth.

Was he dead? Was Hades messing with him? Michael Kahale was eating food from his plate. His heart was going to give out some time soon if it hadn’t already. Something as simple as sharing food off a plate as though it was a normal thing did something inside Travis he’d never felt before.

Suddenly he was staring up at Michael still leaning towards the table. Travis was going to tell him about the hot sauce at the corner of Michael’s mouth but instead he licked Michael’s lips.

As he was pulling away, the knowledge that he’d just licked Michael without thinking making him panic, the hand behind his head pulled Travis forward and Michael kissed him. It wasn’t a hard kiss. It was openmouthed but all Michael’s tongue did was flick over his lips and teeth.

“I hope someone strikes you down with lightning,” Connor had scorned, but he knew his brother didn’t say it because he hated gays. He just did it because he didn’t like Michael.

Travis tried to pull away but Michael’s strength kept him where he sat. Michael’s tongue entered his mouth and swirled around. Travis moaned when Michael started to suck on his tongue. He could taste the brunt bacon and the hot sauce on Michael’s tongue, could smell Michael’s musk and sweat.

Then Connor started cursing in Greek. Michael took his time to slow down the kiss into a gentle one and pulled away. He knew the reason Michael continued to kiss him deeply was to get on Connor’s nerves. He felt used, but so breathlessly wanted at the same time he didn’t care at this point in time.

Travis felt a shutter go through him when he opened his eyes slowly and saw Michael lick his lips. The guy oozed sexiness didn’t he? Was that a thing?

“Later,” Michael gruff out and walked out of the kitchen into the hallway.

“I’m going to kill him,” Connor snarled when Michael was out of earshot.

Out of anger Connor stabbed his scrambled eggs, lifted whatever was on his fork and ate it. It seemed he didn’t notice what he was doing until he swallowed and looked very surprised.

Travis was still trying to collect himself while Connor looked between the plate and Travis. He didn’t bother to ask his brother what had him so dazed

“It’s not that bad,” Connor said honestly. Travis blinked. _Not that bad?_

Connor hesitantly ate some eggs and took a bite out of the crispy slightly burnt bacon. Travis was pretty sure he’d done a perfect job at...

“Try this,” Travis shoved his plate at Connor. Connor ate the eggs and mushroom without thinking. He started coughing and spat it out onto the plate again.

“Maybe it was a miracle,” Connor coughed as he shoved Travis’ plate back. No it wasn’t a miracle. Travis gave Connor the wrong plate. Granted Travis would have eaten his own food regardless, but he had wanted to at least be able to triumphantly grin at his brother’s misery.

“Maybe Kahale doesn’t have any taste.”

“Why are you here?” Travis asked. He didn’t want to know what Michael _really_ thought of Travis’ horrible cooking just now. “I didn’t give you a spare key to sneak in.” It was better to put his mind elsewhere with why Connor showed up unannounced.

“Afraid I’ll see something?” Connor waggled his eyebrows. Travis rolled his eyes at his brother. This coming from the guy who just threatened Michael for kissing in front of him.

“You didn’t see anything.”

Travis gave Connor his poker face. Connor stuck his tongue out childishly as always and ate his food greedily.

Feeling too tired for this he mumbled something about going back to bed and wobbled to his bedroom. He’d only just about closed the door when it was pushed open again. Jumping back every fiber of Travis’ being went into fight mode.

Before he did get into a fighting stance he was drawn against a hard body as he heard his door slammed shut.

“Gods, that was hard.” He heard Michael’s heavy sigh, face against the man’s bared chest. Travis wasn’t sure what was hard, but his eggs weren’t that bad. He couldn’t say the same thing about bacon.

They were in silence for some time. Michael was leaning against Travis’ door, staring at the ceiling. The man’s powerful hand was at the back of his neck, keeping his head pressed to Michael’s chest. Michael’s thigh was between Travis’s legs. It was pressing against Travis’ crotch. It was a bit uncomfortable and very hot—in the sense of heat and sensuality.

He squirmed when the hand pressing his hip against Michael’s started to move towards his butt.

“Kiss me.”

Travis froze.


	14. Buffering

It had been a gentle kiss. One where their closed lips were pressed together. After that Michael had impulsively lifted Travis up, wrapped those long legs around his waist and walked over to Travis’ single bed.

How his and Travis’ sweatpants were pulled down enough for their cocks to be taken out he wasn’t too sure. It was a haze. Michael didn’t like hazed experiences. It meant he was running on impulse. He preferred control. He didn’t regret it though, because lying on their side together in that small bed, kissing each other heatedly felt oddly innocent and virginal. Like it was something Michael had missed out on in all his years.

He jerked when Travis’ cool fingers grabbed his balls. He let out a groan, leaning in a little more towards Travis to take over the kiss. Gods that felt good. Travis didn’t have that much experience, they’ve only touched each other intimately twice. He liked that Travis was a fast learner though. Liked it a lot.

Aside from ravaging Travis with their kiss Michael didn’t do much else. He laid on his back and moved Travis closer to him. The other man was nearly half on top of Michael, exploring his nether region while Michael sucked on his tongue and kissed him hungrily.

He pulled away, something he wished he didn’t have to do. Travis moaned, his eyes looked glazed. Perhaps Travis hadn’t really been conscious of what he had been doing.

“Zero experience?” he managed to ask.

Travis pursed his lips for a frustrated moment. “Only you.”

For some reason Michael felt the core of him swell up. Pride? Michael didn’t normally handle virgins, and the few he had handled were usually men in the bottom position. Travis was a virgin in every sense, and a primal part of him loved that. Honored it. Cherished it.

Removing Travis’ hands from his cock he grumbled. Michael didn’t want to say it but he did, “I need to get tested.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t already been when he joined the force, or before he left Camp Jupiter. The fact was that he needed something recent to show proof. He couldn’t just let Travis think going any further than mutual shared masturbation was safe and normal without knowing.

“Oh…” He could hear the distance in Travis’ voice as the man pulled up his sweatpants and flipped onto his stomach. It was cramp sharing Travis’ single bed but he found he kind of liked the closeness. “Y-you…” Travis was stuttering his words again, “had a lot of…” there was a pause, he knew the word, “…partners.”

Moving to lay on his side facing Travis he pulled up his sweats too. With an arm folded to act as a pillow he stared at the light brown hair and those deeply concentrated blue eyes. He knew Travis was trying hard not to show he felt… Inadequate.

“Having _any_ penetrative experience requires your partner showing you documentation that they are healthy,” Michael told him. Travis pouted just the slightest.

Michael wrapped an arm over Travis’ waist, gripping the well-toned hip area and pulled Travis up against him. Travis hid his face into his pillow, refusing to turn towards Michael.

“We should take it slow anyways,” Michael reminded Travis. Despite the fact that Michael just wanted to fuck Travis bare, hard, fast and over the edge. The fact that Travis was so open to the ecstasy of carnal pleasure, so inhabited was a turn on. The problem was that Travis would have nightmares if Michael even so much as tried to mount him.

“We should?”

Michael tried not to laugh. “It’ll take time for your memory to stop associating your nightmare to sex.” He saw the realization in Travis’ eyes. It quickly changed into playfulness.

“Yeah, I think I still get nightmares from how big your cock is,” Travis rolled his eyes. He was saying it sarcastically but Michael knew Travis hadn’t seen him fully erect yet. Not clearly anyways.

“Really?” Michael decided to bite. Sarcastically, he added, “Considering the situation I thought you’ll be having wet dreams.”

Travis’ face lit up red within milliseconds. He definitely would never tire of Travis’ innocent reactions. Sadly Michael knew once Travis got used to it that Michael would rarely see those many expressions again.

He savored all of Travis’ expressions when he could. Just like now. Travis’ tensed shoulders, the way his elbows dug into the mattress, pink flush that went up Travis’ neck to his entire face, the way Travis’ sharp features puffed up into what seemed a bit more like rounded features was amazing. Captivating.

A kiss suddenly fell on his lips. A quick pressing of their lips that left so quickly Michael hadn’t been able to react. Normally he wasn’t so distracted or loss in thought. This morning was different.

Even while on his run all Michael had thought about was Travis. While he did the rest of his routine he’d imagined Travis doing them with him and sneaking peeks at Travis’ feature. Those long, toned, beautiful bowed legs. Those butt cheeks so well encased in those jeans. He loved how Travis’ muscles weren’t buffed out like his, were well tone and lanky. Love how he was nearly as tall as Michael but wasn’t nearly as bulky.

Michael also missed seeing the starry-eyed boy with a crush on him always running around with eyes lighted with mischief.

Travis’s face was buried in his pillow again. Michael licked his lips slowly and swore he could almost taste Travis on his lips.

He decided to climb over Travis to get out of bed. He purposely pressed closer to Travis’s body, dipping his hips into a slight thrust just against the in-between of Travis’ butt cheeks, before swinging his foot off the bed and standing. Travis’ head had popped up immediately when Michael’s bulge touched him. Michael had caught the quick intake of breath and how Travis stilled immediately.

“Rest a bit.” Michael managed not to smile. He left Travis’ room just as Connor was coming down the hall. This time there was no confrontation. Connor glared at him and Michael glared back until Connor walked into Travis’ bedroom, knocking Michael’s shoulder as he passed.

* * *

 

Travis felt his heart quiver. Not race or thump. Quiver. Michael’s erection was hot and big. It reminded Travis of the night he touched Michael’s cock, how he’d required both hands to take the length and size in his hands. It had been in total darkness, Travis had been panicking, but that sensation was unforgettable. He thought he might have imagined it because earlier Michael’s erection had only required one hand.

It was the strangest sensation he’d ever felt. His heart quivering. It was numbing and comforting.

Flipping onto his back Travis stared at his ceiling. Putting his hand over his heart and wondering what this trembling throughout his veins was Travis closed his eyes. He wondered exactly how he came from the guy who always snuck peeks at the dashing, popular centurion to the guy who was getting jerked off by that centurion.

When he opened his eyes again it was because his stomach was demanding it. Travis groaned as he sat up, feeling a bit dizzy as he did so. Not enough sleep did that. He was slowly getting used to it.

“Need to stop taking up so many shifts,” he grumbled to himself. Travis made a mental note to finish all the shifts he’d picked up for other monitors and decided after to only do his required scheduled ones.

With not such a clear state of mind as he thought he was in Travis moved towards the kitchen. He grumbled, headache piercing his temple as he registered Michael putting plates of food down for lunch.

“Ah, missed the chance to wake you,” Michael said in greeting. Travis groaned some greeting even he couldn’t decipher. He sniffed Michael’s manly scent—funny as he always associated Aphrodite children with flower perfume—and found himself drawing in towards the man.

Michael turned to him, arms opened to take him in. Travis registered the jeans and V-neck t-shirt—appreciated the slightly exposed collarbone. He bit down when he lowered his head to rest on the crevice between Michael’s neck and shoulder.

“Disoriented, aren’t you,” Michael said with amusement in his tone. Travis didn’t bother to answer, he was still too tired and half-asleep to care. He only got up because he was hungry. His stomach agreed as it protested loudly. “Alright, already. Food’s on the table. Eat it.” Michael removed him, which Travis didn’t want—his body heat was ideal—and made Travis sit down on the table across from where Connor was glaring.

“You’re just doing that to make me mad now, Travis,” Connor hissed. Travis glared at his brother a bit hazed from sleep still. With a dramatic sigh Connor then kicked him underneath the table. Travis doubled over the table immediately with a groan. “I hope you fall asleep and drown yourself in the soup.”

“It’s a bisque.”

“Whatever.”

Travis groaned when the fighting match started between Connor and Michael. “I’m up,” he said tiredly. He grabbed the grilled cheese sandwich and took a bite. He took a sip of the bisque—tomato basil. It was good. Creamy. Wonderful. A little salty but amazing still.

By the time Travis was fully awake he’d finished everything on his plate and the bisque. He wobbled to the couch and collapsed himself on it, too full and too tired still to do more than lie there.

“You’re too tired to hang out with me?” Connor was sitting at the foot of the couch asking him. He knew his younger brother was using that puppy look again. Connor was good at that.

He reached his hand out and touched his brother’s cheek. His rubbed his thumb over Connor’s cheek. “We can go shopping in a bit.”

“Can we go to Mall of America?”

He smiled to himself. Connor was easy to please. He had no doubt they were going to get thrown out by security.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take you,” he heard Michael offer, whispering against his ear. He prickled, felt his entire skin go cold with anticipation. Michael’s hand brushed over the back of his hair. “Go shower.”

Travis groaned. That was an order. He’d gotten used to being ordered to do things. He hated it but he did them. If not Michael wouldn’t feed him, and he liked Michael’s food. Probably couldn’t live without it.

 

The drive to MOA had been uneventful. Travis was glad for that. On the other hand they’d gone through six stores, and twice Michael had cornered him when he was going into a changing room and pushed him up against one of the walls. Not that Travis didn’t find something nice about it, but Michael would pull them close, start tantalizingly move his hips against Travis’ own as he kissed Travis but then would suddenly recollected himself. He would fix Travis’ clothing, give a terse nod, and slip out the changing room.

Was that normal behavior for sex-crazed individuals?

As they were eating in the food court, Travis regretted getting the Greek fast food. The taste was strange and foreign. He wanted to eat Michael’s cooking. It was warm, inviting, and settled at the pit of his stomach nicely.

“You don’t need to finish it.”

“What?”

“Your food,” Connor said. His eyes moved to Michael who had spoken up first and back at Travis. “Bro you’ve only taken three bites out of it. You want some of my fries?” Connor waved his container of fries at Travis.

“Just distracted,” Travis lied. He took another bite and told himself he should probably quit.

“Here, finish this for me.” Michael got up and put his burger in front of Travis. “Be back,” he said as he moved away from where they were sitting.

“I’m not going to finish it,” Travis mumbled as he stared at the extra food now on his tray.

“Just eat his burger you wishy-washy lovey-dovey freak,” Connor grumbled as he went back to eating his fries. Travis kicked his younger brother under the table again. This time Connor stuck out his tongue.

“Screw you.”

“Yea screw me,” Connor rolled his eyes in an annoyed way. “It’ll probably go better than watching you two. I’m getting sick to the stomach.”

Travis leaned in towards his brother. He hissed angrily, “What is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem, I just don’t like that Roman,” Connor hissed back venomously.

Travis knew his brother and that wasn’t it. “Connor, you only hated him because of that one time. What in Hades happened while I was gone?”

Connor became defensive. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded to his chest. He glowered at Travis.

Travis peered around the overcrowded cafeteria area. He couldn’t see Michael anywhere or a possible crowd of people that had ended up stalking him to indicate where he was.

“So?”

“Nothing!”

“Con…” Travis sighed.

“Trav, I don’t want to talk about it,” Connor seethed.

Travis felt a part of him flared up then. He shoved Connor’s shoulder and leaning in even more, looming over his brother he growled, “Then don’t use Michael as your personal punching bag.” He held his brother’s shocked stare until Connor nodded. “Good.” He pulled back and started eating the burger on his tray.

* * *

 

Michael forgot he hated crowded areas and he hated people. Everywhere he went in this damn mall he had people staring. Not that _everyone_ was subjectable or suggestible to his blessed charm. In a crowd it was a lot harder to try and avoid it.

It was also difficult as he wanted to be in bed making Travis melt against him. It was impossible seeing as Connor had unexpected shown up to spend the time with Travis.

He washed his face with cold water again and slicked his wet fingers through his dark hair. It may be about time to cut his hair again but Minnesota winter was too cold for his preference.

Michael needed a cold shower. He’d never had a partner he couldn’t control his arousal with. Just a taste of Travis had him going haywire. Normally he could control whether he got hard or not to an extent. With Travis it was increasingly getting harder to do in a very short span of time.

Michael touched the holster on his belt. It looked like a phone holster but it was really a contraception to keep his dagger in. Like his javelin it was extendable, which didn’t make it exactly the sturdiest weapon but it was reliable enough.

Michael shrugged on his jacket, wearing it wasn’t just for the cold. It kept the imprint of the long knife he had holstered against his back from showing under his tee shirt. Michael was just stepping out of the bathroom when he caught the glimpse of the woman’s bathroom across the way. A lot of girls crowded the bathroom and he had a feeling it was because he was there.

“Damn,” he spat out as he moved quickly through the crowd. He weaved through towards Travis. He had a feeling Travis and Connor didn’t know about their little ability at all, but he needed another buffer.


	15. Things We Say Without Words

“You’ve been _using_ me?” Travis growled in a low, heated voice. Michael didn’t wince but he could see Connor wincing. He’d told Travis the truth, simply because coming to the Mall had allowed him to actually test whether or not his guess had been right. Although their buffering ability was not strong it worked well enough.

“It was a test,” Michael elected to correct.

“Without consent,” Travis pointed out. They were hiding in a corner of an elevator that wasn’t working which meant not many people were walking by it. “Is that why you’ve been…” Travis’ voice faded away.

Michael knew what the question was asking. Whether pushing him against the wall those couple of times had been real of fake.

He stepped closer to Travis, staring down at him intently. “If I want something, I take it.” He stared into Travis’ eyes, trying to see whether the other man understood. There was a point of clarity but a point of doubt as well.

“So you’re saying we have this ability to rub off invisibility?” Connor cut in. Michael didn’t move away from Travis. Travis did try to step away to go towards his brother, but Michael grabbed his arm and kept him still.

Michael felt like groaning out of frustration when he saw the anger flash in Travis’ light eyes. Instead he turned around to address the younger Stoll.

“Not invisibility,” Michael clarified. Connor waved his hands out as in signaling for the explanation like a platter of food. “I suspect children of Mercury…” Michael paused a moment when he noticed both brothers glaring at him but didn’t bother correcting himself, “have an innate ability to go almost unnoticed. You tend to blend into the crowd.”

“What’s your point?”

Michael raised a brow quizzically at Connor then. “Children of Venus have a tendency to stand out.” It seemed neither Connor nor Travis grasped the situation. “We don’t blend into crowds, we create them.”

“Yea, you definitely create unnecessary crowds,” Connor scoffed. “We saw the trail of women.” Michael decided not to point out saying that he had a trail of women following him was a bit too exaggerated. Then he remembered he was with the Stoll boys. They exaggerated everything.

“I attract attention when it’s not needed,” Michael chose to say instead. He noticed the odd way Travis looked at him, in that he wasn’t looking. He seemed calm and distant—unemotional. It grated him for some reason.

“Same difference,” Connor rolled his eyes. It wasn’t a dramatic or exaggerated eye roll. More of the kind you made without realizing you’d done it. Somehow it seemed to give Connor a more… masculinity.

“Being _near_ one of you cancels it out,” Michael pointed out. “Hermes,” he made sure to say this time, “is the god of traveling. Import, export, entrance and exit. He could go anywhere unnoticed if he pleases. Not just unnoticed but it is almost natural to just accept him without really noticing him.”

“That’s why you suddenly grabbed us from the table and made us leave?” Connor asked, this time crossing his arms over his chest.

He was just a little shorter than his brother but his wide shoulders and stubborn set of the jaw that Travis didn’t have made him just the slightest more intimidating. He found he was starting to like Connor Stoll just a bit for his ability to stubbornly stand where he was when he was likely to get knocked down.

“There was a fight in the women’s bathroom,” Michael decided to explain. The two of them stared at him suspiciously, perhaps wondering how he would know that. “The door was opened,” he shrugged nonchalantly as his own explanation.

“And you think you were the start of a brawl in the mall?”

“If I didn’t collect you two and leave we were liable to get kicked out,” Michael pointed out. Which was not something Michael needed at this current point in time—being noticed.

“Fine,” Travis finally spoke up. His voice sounded far and gone. Michael found he also didn’t like this. “Then we’re going back. Better than getting kicked out, after all.” He sensed sarcasm there, and Michael wasn’t sure how to respond to it. He just stared as Travis walked past him with Connor at his side. Michael decided to follow, wondering why he sensed a sudden cold distance between him and Travis. Yet a part of him instinctively knew why.

He’d just given Travis a reason.

 

Travis threw the shopping bags on the floor of the living room and rolled himself onto the couch. He laid there until Connor sat at the foot of the couch again.

“I wanted to at least buy something before we left,” Connor was pouting. At least his _voice_ was pouting. Travis was stuffing his face into the crevice of the couch, back to the living room, so he couldn’t actually see anything. “Trav…” Connor began to whine. Connor never whined unless he was desperate for attention.

Sighing Travis positioned himself facing the living room again. He said laid on the couch and hugged his arms around himself.

“ _Is it because of what he told us?_ ” Connor asked Travis. He was speaking in the language Alethea used. Hmong. It didn’t take Travis long once he got to the University of Minnesota to figure out what language Alethea had been a native speaker of. It also didn’t take long for Travis to switch classes so he could take the beginning Hmong language course.

Travis sighed, a bit too tired really to try to argue with Connor. They’d always acted in unison and as one in most cases. The reason was to confuse others, and also because like twins—though they weren’t—they had the insecurity with having lovers. What if all that mattered was how they looked? What if all that mattered was that they had the stealth abilities like their father? The ability that Michael had just confessed to using them as a buffer for his own blessed charm from his mother.

Frowning because Travis wasn’t going to answer, Connor finally said, “I’m going to go hang with Will and Alethea for a bit then go back.”

“Okay.”

Connor stood up, stared down at Travis and it was almost as though Connor was going to say something. Only his younger brother thought better of it and turned away from him instead. Travis would probably not have been in the right mindset to have done anything an older brother was meant to. Connor was always getting angry for him when no one was looking.

“I’m here,” Travis finally proclaimed. Connor didn’t move after picking up his own shopping bags. “I won’t be anywhere else when you need me, promise,” Travis said in his tired voice. He turned back to stuffing himself into the crevice of the couch. He heard Connor leave through the back door from the kitchen. Even if they were masters of words and languages as their father was, some things words just weren’t needed.

 

It felt as if he’d been drifting for a long time when he woke up. Then Travis realized it was because he was being carried to bed. He continued to act as if he wasn’t awake until he felt Michael settle him on the cool sheets of the bed.

Silently and quickly Michael shed his clothing, then he was leaning over Travis. Travis let himself get undressed by Michael and kept pretending to sleep as they were both tucked under the thin sheets.

He held his breath when he felt Michael’s member pressed against his own back. It was… hot. Hard. Big. _Very_ big.

An arm snaked over his body to wrap around his and pulled him against Michael’s chest. His shoulder blades pressed tightly against Michael’s muscled chest, and he felt his skin rise up like a fever. It was new to him and a little scary but it also felt… nice?

Travis let a gasp escape when Michael pulled him a little closer. Michael’s other arm moved under the pillow Travis was using. He jerked when Michael kissed the back of his neck.

“Relax,” Michael whispered into his ear, holding Travis against his body.

“Little hard,” he found his voice squeak.

Michael chuckled against his skin until Travis realized what he’d just said. He smacked Michael’s hand around his waist but it only tightened instead.

“Go to sleep, Travis,” Michael whispered into his ear. Travis found himself tensing up instead. “You’ve got classes and work tomorrow. Rest.” He didn’t want to argue with that so he let himself drift off to sleep again.

 

In the morning Travis wasn’t exactly sure how to look at Michael. Especially since he woke up in bed alone—Michael exercised in the early morning hours. Travis went through what would be his daily routine if he wasn’t killing himself with work.

Travis was eating his breakfast when Michael came through the kitchen door sweating through his shirt. He sat there dumbfounded when Michael stripped off his shirt right there and walked to the refrigerator for a glass of water.

Michael strode back to him, set the cup of water down and bent forward and kissed Travis. It was the strangest moment in Travis’ life. Something that swept under his feet and flipped him on his back.

“Morning,” Michael smiled as he moved away. Travis blinked a few times. “Sausages today,” he said as he picked one off Travis’ plate and put the entire little sausage in his mouth. He kissed Travis again and left the flavor of maple sausage in Travis’ mouth before leaving.

Travis sat there and wondered if it was normal. He wasn’t sure what Michael wanted from him with those kind of moments. It left him feeling a bit deserted really.

As he was washing the dishes in the sink he felt a body pressed behind him. Two hands held against his waist pulling him backwards against Michael’s body, and a kiss against his neck again. It felt like something was missing whenever Michael kissed his neck or shoulder.

“Your class starts early?” Michael asked him.

Travis put the plate in the dishrack to dry. He tried not to show that he was nervous. His hands were starting to shake so he grabbed the edge of the sink and bit back the noise that almost came out of him when Michael leaned into him.

“I start at eleven,” Travis rasped.

Suddenly he was turned around, his hips pressed against Michael’s own. Michael lean into him again and kissed him. Travis kept his lips together until the urge to open up couldn’t be held back.

Once Travis opened his mouth he felt lost again. Someone could have been robbing them and Travis wouldn’t even notice.

* * *

Michael had never felt more on fire as when he finally kissed Travis’ lips again. Gods, he couldn’t keep himself from the man.

Wrapped those amazing long legs around his waist Michael lifted Travis up onto the counter of the sink. Travis was kissing him back and Michael couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to have to stop.

Somehow Travis was off the counter, instead Michael was thrusting against him on the kitchen table. Michael was in the middle of removing Travis’ sweats and his own when a burst of clarity hit him.

“Mike…” Travis grasped. He was breathing heavily, staring up, disheveled, tee shirt pulled up to reveal those smooth muscle lines… Michael watched the way Travis nervously bit his lower lip.

Michael wanted him.

It hit him so hard he almost couldn’t breathe. Not just physically. He wanted Travis. Needed him. In every aspect. He wanted to discover the diamond in the rough.

Michael wanted this Greek. He didn’t just want to play at love. He didn’t want to love, but he knew he wanted this to be real. He wasn’t just looking to have some kind of relationship where sex and mutual understanding was possible. He was searching for something deeper even if it wasn’t like Jason Grace and Piper McLean’s relationship.

Michael had never felt more breathless.

“I want you.”

He leaned down and kissed Travis again. He took a moment to breathe that in. Michael knew Travis wouldn’t understand. Wouldn’t believe him. Had a reason to distrust Michael’s intentions.

Travis didn’t say anything to him. Just laid there panting.

“Mike, please…” he finally said.

And then Michael was suddenly back to Spring Break, in his apartment, so close to having that earth shattering moment. He was there again and he stepped away. He didn’t want to step away. He found he hated safe words, and particularly the word “please”.

“I love you.”

Michael was hearing that again, from earlier in the weekend. “I cannot lie to you,” Michael groaned the words. He kissed Travis’ cheek before pulling himself away. “And I will not force you into something you don’t want.” It took more strength to walk away than it would have taken him to walk with both his legs chopped off.

 

The rest of the day was gone to Michael. When it was finally dark he went to the club he’d been frequenting. He left earlier than usual, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Travis worked late in the night and wouldn’t have known. By the time Travis came back was usually the time Michael returned too.

He was dancing with a guy in the club when the guy pulled him close, stood on tiptoe and whispered something into his ear. He hadn’t quite heard it but he could tell what the man had been asking. He nodded and followed the man as he dragged him into the bathroom.

Luckily it wasn’t crowded. Michael followed the guy into the bathroom and before they even had the stall door locked the man was on him. One leg wrapped around his hip and the man was leaning into him, kissing him.

Michael went along with it. He didn’t see why not. He pushed the man against the wall and kissed him back.

* * *

Michael never came home that night. Travis stayed up to see if Michael would. He didn’t. He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but he knew he’d fallen asleep feeling broken and abandoned.

When he woke up he felt scattered and lost. Only he also felt miserable. He was sleeping in Michael’s bed, alone, and he wasn’t sure why.

He was wearing his muscle shirt and sweatpants. He hadn’t remembered going to sleep in Michael’s bed, and it hadn’t felt like Michael brought him into bed.

As he sat up on his knees he looked around in the dark. He rubbed the bottom of his palm against his cheek, wiping away the remnants of tears. He cursed himself for being a fool and for letting himself cry like some heartbroken woman.

When he stepped out of Michael’s bedroom and walked to the living room he found Michael asleep there. He suddenly realized it was the first time he was seeing Michael there on his own. Unless Travis was sitting there Michael wasn’t sitting there, and unless Travis was lying there Michael almost never approached the couch. At least not while Travis was in the house.

Travis approached the couch and sat at the foot of it staring at Michael’s sleeping face. He smelled like alcohol and an array of perfume and cologne. He smelled like stray women and men, like sweat and sex. He smelled like a club even though he looked anything but.

Michael was asleep, his powerful arms curled around his abs, his shoes still on. It looked like he was only napping. Like he’d taken an early morning walk, gotten tired and decided to nap on the couch before breakfast.

“Don’t touch me,” Michael suddenly said when Travis extended an arm. Those dark eyes opened, staring right at him. “You don’t want to touch me right now.”

“You don’t want me to touch you…” Travis was putting his hand away. Michael’s hand grabbed his, their fingers lacing together even as Michael’s bigger hand held onto his. “Let go…” Travis started to get on his feet so he could go. Michael yanked at him so he hit the floor with his knees and knelt at the couch.

“I want you to always touch me,” Michael said. “Whenever you want.”

“But you…”

Michael cut in. “But not right now. Not today.” Michael let him go. “You wouldn’t want to touch me if you knew.” There were some unspoken things there, but he also knew that Michael was rejecting him. For now he was.

“Okay.”

“I do need you, Travis Stoll,” Michael sighed heavily with a groan as he stretched himself on the couch further. He was too big for his own good. “There are no words for you being in my life…” Then Michael seemed to have drifted back to sleep.


	16. If You Can't Then Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where "Angel of Solace" meets "An Angel for the Traveler" so I hope ya enjoy.

Travis was sitting on the couch not sure how to handle all that had happened in the last few months. On his birthday in November, Michael had taken him out to a nice restaurant in Minneapolis. He had to dress up for it, which annoyed him. He felt more constricted than usual. When they came back from that Michael kissed him and held his hand through the car drive.

Afterwards nothing happened. Michael helped take off his tie and unbutton his collar then kissed him at his bedroom door and disappeared into his bedroom. The room Travis hadn’t been in since the morning he woke up alone in it.

Thanksgiving he spent with himself. He lied to Michael and watched him head to the airport to go to Hawaii to visit his family there. It had been a long time since Michael had gone back to Hawaii apparently. Travis worked most of that week and caught up on his homework—which was difficult since he couldn’t concentrate on anything long enough. He gave a bogus reason not to go with Connor to their mom’s even if he assured Travis that she wanted him to go.

For Christmas he’d gotten Michael flannel shirts and an armlet. He didn’t really know how to give the presents to Michael in the morning so he’d left the presents at Michael’s front door. He knew they didn’t exactly celebrate those kind of holidays, but why not? Everyone celebrated holidays for no reason only because others did.

When Travis came back from his exhausted run that morning Michael had kissed him against the kitchen door. He couldn’t quite remember how he ended up against the door face first and Michael’s cock rocking between his closed legs.

Travis buried his face into the couch pillow when he remembered how that felt. Afterwards, when they came together, Michael carried Travis back to his bed and cleaned him up. Then Michael kissed him and sat with him for a bit, leaning over and kissing Travis’ forehead.

When he woke up from that there was a present on his nightstand. Travis never opened it.

On New Year’s Eve Travis was working. He realized once it got close to midnight how much he regretted he wasn’t spending it with Michael, only to remember Michael was probably spending it with someone else in a club. Instead he got a call to pick up an escort just before midnight.

Michael was waiting for him at the Social Sciences building when he got there. He realized he probably should have figured the “Mike” he was escorting was Michael.

After calling in his pick-up he walked with Michael in silence. Usually Travis was really good with striking conversation with his escorts if they were a little nervous and wanted to talk. He didn’t try with Michael, just walked him over the bridge.

They were crossing to the middle of the Washington Avenue Bridge between the West and East campus when he felt a tug on his elbow.

Before he’d known what was happening Michael was kissing him. It was just their lips touching but Travis had felt like he was levitating.

“Happy New Year,” Michael whispered against his lips as he pulled away.

He walked in silence, this time out of embarrassment. He took Michael to the building Michael had wanted to go to, knowing for a fact that Michael didn’t go to the university of needed to be there that late. Before leaving Michael kissed him again, and Travis felt himself warm up entirely.

“See you in a bit,” Michael said in a quiet voice, a hand on his cheek. Then he walked away and Travis turned away too. He had briskly walked back to his stationed area without noticing how cold it was.

It'd been weeks since then but Travis still couldn't decide on anything. He knew if one can't decide then one didn't make a move. He knew, but Travis so wanted to do something. 

* * *

 

“Hey Nico, it’s been awhile,” Travis greeted Nico. He kept staring at the spot in the living room that he’d been staring for the past few hours. He remembered what tonight was.

Michael got off the couch and walked past Nico into the hall. He didn’t explain how he came to have Nico with him—but he knew both of them had been drinking, and that they’d both came back from a club. Together.

“Yeah it has,” Nico replied. Travis kept himself curled on the couch where he sat. Travis couldn’t stop remembering the intimacy he shared with Michael, and Michael always initiated them. He couldn’t understand it really.

Travis looked at Nico. It wasn’t like he didn’t remember or know that he was there, but he figured he should look at Nico in case the guy freaked out. Nico had a thing for sneaking up on people that even Travis and Connor couldn’t do. He admired that ability but it bothered Nico a bit actually.

Nico was kneeling in front of him so Travis wouldn’t have to look up at him. He appreciated that. He didn’t want to move much. At least not at the moment after all he’d been thinking.

“It would seem Michael is very confident.”

Travis sharpened his eyes on Nico suspiciously. “He’s always confident. He’s Roman.” Travis omitted the ‘bloody’ part. Michael didn’t bleed apparently, or got hurt, or knew when he was messing with people who were hurting.

“What’s that got to do with it?”

Trust Nico di Angelo the freaking asshole who broke Will Solace to ask the important question. Travis bit the inside of his mouth to calm himself. He didn’t like being angry.

Travis decided to ask, nearly grounding it out, “How far did you and Will go?” He’d been curious and wanted to know.

“None of your business.”

“But you two were together.”

“No we weren’t.”

It took Travis a moment to understand where Nico was going with that answer. Will didn’t know. Of course Will didn’t. It was so plain for everyone, it was so obvious even someone who wasn’t the love goddess’s child would understand. Nico was gay and he appreciated Will being his friend but he also loved—loves?—him. So much it must have been a disaster to act on it. Then there was Will whose heart was just too big for his own good, who was just a little too thick when it came to certain things.

“There were things said and unsaid.”

“Really?” Travis might have looked a little angrier than he meant to show. It wasn’t that he was mad at Nico though, he was angry with Will. His friend was an idiot. He hoped a monster ate him whole and spat him out for his foulness.

He didn’t appreciate, either how Nico handled the situation. “Because for Will a lot of things were said by you,” as he said this he watched Nico’s expression, “and it hurt him, and he…” Travis had to stop himself. Remembering what Will went through. It had been hard seeing Will try to change and reinvent himself to the point Travis and Connor had to hold him down and tell him he could never be that jock-type, fun-loving alethic type like Percy. “He didn’t know how to deal with it. Still doesn’t. Truth hurts, you know.”

Gods Travis knew the truth hurt. He’d seen it firsthand. Remember the way Michael had hurt so badly but couldn’t let himself hurt. Spring Break…

“When he came back from your apartment he never… He wasn’t the same.” Travis also knew that the truth hurt because Michael didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. That he could do everything he did with Travis with anyone from those clubs he went to.

He saw the expression on Nico’s face. “Will’s okay!” he blurted out quickly. He looked away for a second. “But he’s…” Travis shrugged as he glanced back at Nico, “he’s different.”

This time he shivered from the cold. He saw Nico’s face going blank, his eyes hollowing into pits of darkness. “Different how?” he asked.

Travis quickly shook his head. “Not like that.” Will wasn’t another Luke Castellan. “Just that… well…” He closed his eyes tight, trying to forget the older half-brother that once led their cabin. The one who died trying to tear apart everything that had once been the only place Travis and Connor felt accepted—even if sometimes they didn’t feel as if they belonged. He looked at Nico, hoping perhaps Nico remembered even though it looked as if Nico was a bit drunk. “You’ll know if you see him again. He said that even if you came back for him, you probably wouldn’t want him the way he is.”

They stared at each other in silence for some time. Nico’s face slowly went from contemplative to confused and bothered. Travis finally understood. Nico didn’t know. He hadn’t heard what Will had said he said before he left Nico’s apartment. The idiot.

Nico probably had heard from Jason or Percy about Will either. Mostly because Will left camp not too long after.

He cautiously tried to explain. “Because he’s different now but before he left your apartment he said if you ever found it…” Travis didn’t say ‘in yourself’ because it was Nico and no one really spoke mushy-feely with Nico di Angelo, “…to forgive him for you to find him.”

Nico was silent. He usually was, so Travis was used to it. Nico didn’t usually “make” conversation with anyone. At the same time he was interested in knowing why Nico was in the Twin Cities, but then he figured perhaps Nico was looking for Will for some reason.

Then Travis thought of something. What Nico and Will was going through wasn’t too different from what Travis was going through with Michael. So he figured…

“Say Nico…” The man looked back at Travis. “I know we don’t know each other all that well and stuff but…” Travis wasn’t sure how to best word his question. Nico might take offense with Travis’ assumptions.

“Go ahead.”

So he wouldn’t stop himself Travis blurted out what he wanted to ask. “Did you feel like Will was playing around with you?” He took a gulp of breath before Nico could respond and continued, “Holding your hand and stuff that one time… Or what you two did—or didn’t do!—when you two were at your apartment.” Travis realized it wasn’t exactly the same what he went through with Michael, but Nico must have known. The way those dark eyes lit in the shade told Travis he knew. That Nico could clearly see through the shadows on Travis’ face.

“No.”

He felt a bit of relief but asked anyways, “Why?”

Shaking his head Nico stood up. He watched as Nico took a few steps back. Travis bristled, hiding his face into the couch pillow he had stuffed in his lap again. He felt so silly and embarrassed. He’d never done anything like this. Why was he even considering…

“I don’t think his intentions were to hurt me or in your words ‘play’ me,” Nico answered. Travis tilted his head in confusion trying to find another angle to see how Nico saw his own relationship with Will. He had a feeling if he could see and understand it he would understand his own with Michael. “Given time he might have realized what he was doing and either completely rejected it or tried to accept it.” Travis had a feeling Will had rejected it. The way Will was now was hard to accept. “His intent at the time was to look for comfort and to come to understand…” Nico paused for a moment as if he was considering something before he said, “I did kiss him out of the blue. My older sister once said children of Hades have a difficult time letting go of grudges, but sometimes I think it is more than that. It’s hard to let go in general.”

To let go…

Travis felt himself come to some kind of understanding then and there. He was still not sure so he said, “I don’t understand.”

With a voice that sounded broken, cracked and a bit weak and soft Nico near coughed out, “I wouldn’t have been able to do what Will did. Walk away. Let go. I wouldn’t…” He looked away at nowhere in particular, mostly seeming like the little kid all those years ago that Percy Jackson and the others had brought back to camp. The pale little boy with the aviator jacket he was into Mythomagic.

His eyes shut tightly and Travis saw the slightest pain in his expression before it disappeared in the shadows of the living room. “I still can’t.” Those words sounded squeezed out of Nico.

“Move here!” Travis blurted out, standing up from where he sat. He let the couch pillow fall to the floor as he reached out to Nico’s chilled hands. Nico looked astounded by Travis’ movements and suddenly energy. “Move to the Cities. Come live here.” One of the reasons he felt so strongly to get Nico to move here was because Will was here.

“I can’t,” Nico looked away and pulled his hand away from Travis’ hold. He walked past Travis, dismissing the notion as he stood facing one of the living room walls.

“Why not?” Travis turned to ask. He was talking to Nico’s back without any answer. He was frustrated and angry that neither Will nor Nico were willing to do anything about the problem. “Why can’t you? Because Will lives here? Because I’m here? Because Michael’s here? Why can’t you be here when you’re clearly standing right here?” Travis grounded out. He felt a burst of anger for both Nico and Will, his friends who had such a simpler relationship than his own. All they had to do was reach out and hold on to each other. No one would care.

For Travis it was so different.

“I know you love him.”

Nico veered around and glared at Travis. “Don’t assume to know me Stoll!” Nico snapped. “I can have every bone in your body broken and shredded, scattered to the winds. I can have your soul stuck in the fields of punishment!”

Travis jabbed a finger into Nico’s shoulder and pushed him back against the wall. “Don’t threaten _me_ di Angelo!” Travis snapped back. Sure, Nico di Angelo was a scary guy but that didn’t give him the right to threaten or berate Travis. Especially not in his own home. “I’m not the guy so scared to love someone I couldn’t even show my face in camp once in the last year. I’m not the guy who let the only person in my life who meant more to me than the world hit the very bottom of a pit he couldn’t crawl out of. You weren’t there to see how bad Will was, how many days he cried, tried to cut open his veins, how he tried to rebuild himself…”

Travis stopped himself, biting his lips as he pounded his fist into the wall. Only then did he noticed he’d backed Nico against a wall and had the other man cornered.

He tore himself away, trying to breathe. “Will was a mess and then he wasn’t even Will anymore. At least not then.”

“I shouldn’t even be here,” Nico said softly behind Travis.

“Then don’t be,” Travis grounded out. He shouldn’t have told Nico to move to the cities at all. It was a foolish, idealistic thought. “Don’t fucking show your face in front of me or my brothers again!” Travis snapped. He twisted around to look Nico in his dark eyes. If anything Nico di Angelo was the problem, his stupid cowardly way of trying not to love someone so obviously even a blind person could see it. “If you don’t have the strength of will to try and fix what you broke don’t come near any of us again. If you do, I swear over the Styx even if you are a child of the Big Three the only way you’ll ever go back to Hades again is with a dharma.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Nico seethed. He felt the prickled of a chill but Travis ignored that.

“If you can’t then don’t,” Travis spat back at Nico di Angelo. “Don’t come near me, don’t come near Connor, and especially don’t go near Will,” Travis sneered. He knew he was going too far but he pushed it to get the message across. “I’ve seen what filth that has touched Tartarus can do to my family, and I don’t need more of that mess to clean up.”

Nico didn’t look offended, in fact he withdrew. He stepped back and he looked—even if he tried to hide it by going into the shadows of the room—ashamed.

“Now give me a yes or a no,” Travis huffed.

Nico worked his mouth for a moment then finally said, “I have a place in Saint Paul.”

Travis was shocked by that news but he stood firm. “Yes or no,” he grounded out sternly.

Nico sighed and he ran his hand through his hair, as he often did when he was stressed. He probably thought no one noticed, but Travis had enough broken and mended bones to have noticed Nico’s habits from being the patient across from him in the infirmary.

“Okay, I’ll stay here,” Nico said with a hoarse voice that sounded like he was both tired and ready to cry.

Travis knew that wasn’t the end of it. Threatening the son of Hades and even insulting him would result in a lot of judgment come Travis’ death, but he also knew it took a lot more than a wayward son of Hermes to make someone as stubborn as a mountain like Nico move.

“I won’t come into contact until I’m ready,” Nico sighed. He ran his hand through his head one more time. “I don’t think I can… There are some things I need to do…”

“And maybe you can tell me about this place you already have in Saint Paul,” Travis also added. Nico just sighed, looking battered and tired. Perhaps he should try to get the story of how Nico ended up with Michael tonight first.

For now Travis had one goal achieved. Spending time trying to give Nico time courage and support to meet Will would put his mind at ease where he was with Michael too. Because if he couldn’t then he shouldn’t decide on anything. Especially not as rashly as he’d seen Will and Nico both did.


	17. No More Stops on the Road

Travis woke up with a groan. He instinctively thought his entire body was aching since he forced Nico to sleep in his bed yesterday, and he remembered knocking out on the couch. Then as he was stretching out his body he realized he wasn’t aching and something firm and warm was at his back.

“It’s six in the morning, go to sleep,” Michael grumbled into his ear with a hot breath. He shivered involuntarily as a chill grazed across his skin from it.

He tensed when he felt Michael’s hand move against his flat abs. His words froze up.

“Sleep. You don’t work today.”

Travis struggled to move. Finally Michael’s hold slackened enough for him to turn around to face Michael. He’d never seen Michael’s sleeping face before, but Travis also knew Michael wasn’t exactly asleep.

Michael’s eyes slowly opened and stared at Travis.

Travis moved a hand to rub against his face. Suddenly he felt embarrassed realizing Michael had seen his sleeping face a lot of times, and it was not the best kind of face to see. Not attractive at all.

His hand was removed from his face by Michael’s hand, and then was placed against Michael’s chest. Travis stared at his lighter skinned hand against Michael’s chest and felt his entire body heat up. He tensed even more when Michael’s hand over his intertwined their fingers together, rubbing Travis’ palm against Michael’s chest in a soothing kind of way. A lot like he was petting Michael.

“We haven’t tried this yet,” Michael said and Travis’ eyes locked on his. Those dark eyes gleamed with a playfulness he never saw in Michael. His lips weren’t a smile but it did look as if he wasn’t frowning.

“What?” Travis croaked. He felt himself heat up even more when Michael moved his hand down from Michael’s chest and let both their intertwined fingers graze over a nipple towards the ripple of his chest to his ribs. It was slow and tingly.

“Touch,” Michael whispered hoarsely. Travis shivered with anticipation when he watched Michael guide their fingers from Michael’s ribs down those chiseled abs and caress the indent of the V-shape of his pelvis.

“You’re…” Travis lost his words. Michael was naked and now that Travis was looking Michael was erect.

“Just touching,” Michael whispered softly. He could hardly believe that. _It_ looked like Michael wanted Travis to take him in his hands. “Touch…” Michael’s calm voice squeezed out a groan when this time Travis guided their intertwined fingers through Michael’s patch of dark hair.

* * *

 

Michael was close to losing it. Maybe he already did lose it. He had only meant to share his bed with Travis, had actually slept on the opposite end of his bed when he put Travis on one side. Somewhere through the night Travis had rolled to the center towards Michael, and it became increasingly more difficult not to touch him.

Now Travis _was_ touching him. That shy little caress earlier down his torso had gotten Michael harder than he’d expected. That Travis had noticed his erection and didn’t even look the slightest scared like usual wasn’t helping Michael calm himself.

“Don’t…” Michael found himself gasping when Travis’ hand guided their intertwined fingers towards his cock.

Travis bit the corner of his lower lip, his eyebrows bunched up in a furrow. “Why not?” Travis asked, a breathy tone in his voice.

There was a sudden pounding in Michael’s head. He wanted Travis so much right now he felt he could break. He was slowly guiding their hands back up when Travis’ eyes flickered up at him. Those eyes slayed him. Michael was sure he’d died already. Could a man look so innocent at a time like this? It was like Michael had just taken ice cream from an expectant child’s hands. Travis was pleading with Michael with that look in his eyes.

The pounding in his head became more pronounce.

“I won’t stop if you start this,” Michael warned him. There were many reasons for why Michael hadn’t done more than he could bare. One was that for the sake of what he’d been doing for the last few months he had sex with a stranger in a bathroom stall and got really drunk. For some reason he felt unclean and kept apart from Travis for a long time.

By the time he’d gotten to slowly picking up what was left between him and Travis, Michael had to wait for his test results. He had worn a condom from that one-time, but he needed that security. So he never got really far with doing much with Travis until the results came back.

Michael wasn’t sure how far Travis was ready to go, and how much Travis could handle. They felt out of sync from where they were before.

Travis was biting his lower lip again, showing that deeply worried expression of his. It made Michael want to smooth out that furrow in his eyebrows and unravel the problems in Travis’ head. He was so busy trying to figure out what Travis was contemplating he was a bit taken aback when Travis kissed him. Their lips pressed together for a moment and then Travis pulled away slowly.

“I…” Travis stopped and his eyes were gazing at Michael’s lips again. He watched the way those innocent eyes glazed into a lusty possessiveness. “I just want you…” Travis whispered.

Michael didn’t stop to think rationally about that. He kissed Travis, pushing Travis onto his back and topping him. Travis responded in kind to his kiss just as strongly.

By the time he’d gotten Travis’ clothes off he was already too gone to remember what he needed to do. Michael was kissing Travis again, his body moving on top of Travis’ with a desire to feel their bodies together. They were only rubbing against each other but it got Michael burning all the way to the back of his shoulders.

“Mike.”

For a moment he didn’t register Travis. Honestly, he didn’t like people calling him by that name. He didn’t recognize it until Travis gasped it again between their kiss.

“Don’t tell me to stop,” Michael groaned, putting his forehead against Travis’. Just taking a pause now was difficult. Things were starting to become hazy again.

“No, not that.” Travis shook his head a bit and then took a deep breath. He let it out slowly and quietly, as if he was trying to calm his nerves too. Michael felt strangely content by this for some reason he couldn’t quite comprehend. A little humbled, actually.

“Good?” Michael asked. He noticed he’d instinctively ran his hand through Travis’ hair. Although he didn’t quite care much for hairstyles, he found he liked Travis with shorter hair.

“Still buzzing…” Travis mumbled.

“Buzzing?” Michael asked.

Travis nodded and looked up at Michael. “Entire body. Every part.”

Michael found himself smiling. It was strange how Travis slowly grew on him. That starry-eyed boy with a crush on him not even a year ago was lying naked with him, and they hadn’t even had penetrative sex yet. He’d never—not since his first—spent so much time making someone so comfortable with him.

He’d also never, Michael realized, felt guilty before either. Until Travis.

“How’s your heart?” Michael asked.

Travis’ face became an even brighter pink. When Michael moved his hand from Travis’ hair to caressing his cheek the man finally talked.

“Like it’s going to implode.” Travis closed his eyes tight. “My lungs feel like they’re going to burst any second. I…”

“Shush, it will be okay,” Michael whispered. He wrapped his arms around Travis and Travis did the same. Michael flipped onto his back, bringing Travis on top of him.

“I’m sorry, I’m always…” Travis shook his head again. He was troubled, Michael knew that.

“We haven’t stopped,” Michael assured him.

“But-”

“We haven’t stopped,” Michael said again. Travis was confused, and still tensed and worried. He let himself give Travis an easy smile, which seemed to ease Travis a little. “Just going slow,” he drawled. Travis started laughing.

“Now I kind of wish we can stop,” Travis was laughing as he said it. Michael fought the urge to ask why. The smile on Travis’ face had not been there in months, and Michael found it more a priority to soak it in. Troublemaker that Travis tended to be, his smile was something that reminded Michael of better moments in life.

Travis continued to talk in a slow uneven pace. “Like this feels like you… you know, actually like me.”

“I like you,” Michael interrupted. Travis grew so still while lying completely on top of Michael it was almost as if he’d stopped breathing. Thinking over his own words he estimated Travis probably had. “You’re like a breath of fresh air.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a good thing.”

“I know.”

Travis still sounded disheartened. Maybe a just a bit disappointed. Michael knew which words and what feeling Travis had wanted. He also knew Travis wouldn’t want him to lie.

“I mean…” Travis pushed himself up off Michael’s chest. He sat on top of Michael, straddling him really. Michael’s been in this position before during sex, but it was perhaps the first time he’d ever wished the person straddling him would ride him. “Whoa!” Travis thrust his hips over, sliding himself against Michael’s pelvis, hands falling on his abs for support. Gods… “Um… that was…”

“I’m pretty big,” Michael commented. His voice was getting rough. His cock was straining. Part of him did want them to stop—again. Another part would kill him if he did.

“ _Pretty_ big?” Travis grinned. Michael was wary of that mischievous glint in his eyes. “Dude, your little guy is NOT little.” Travis sat back a little, hands moving off Michael’s abs. Every inch of Michael wanted Travis to keep touching him.

“What were you saying?” Michael asked him instead.

Travis frowned and thought for a moment. Then his face went completely pink again. “Right, um…” his voice lowered and his lowered gaze went to the side. He waited, moving his hands gently down Travis’ thighs and back up to his hips. Travis didn’t seem to notice.

It took another minute before Travis looked Michael in the eyes again. “I know you don’t feel the same way, and you’re a lot more experienced, and you’ve had tons of relationships before,” Travis started to say. He could hear the nervousness in Travis’ voice. Knew how Travis’ nerves were buzzing still and how it made him feel unsettled. Michael felt that way whenever he finished a mission back at camp. “And I’m not really smart…”

“You’re smart.”

“… And I’m not really good at house stuff…”

“I like your cooking.”

“… And you probably hated my-” Travis abruptly stopped, showing a very shocked face. Michael just smiled at him. “You like my cooking?”

“Yea.”

“How? What? Why?”

Michael just chuckled. It seemed Travis didn’t quite believe him but wanted to. “It fits my taste,” he shrugged nonchalantly. Travis just frowned at him.

“Travis,” whispered Michael as he pushed himself up. He touched Travis’ cheek then gave Travis a light kiss. “I don’t think I can believe myself to be in love with anyone.” When he said those words he could see how crestfallen Travis was. “But trust me when I say that I want you.”

“That’s because I’m around.”

“Look, I might go out a lot right now, and I have had…” Michael found himself hating to confess this, “done things with others, but tomorrow is the last night. I’ll be finished with all that tomorrow night. Can you believe me if I told you that at this point you’re the only person I want in my bed?”

“No.” The answer came faster than Michael had expected. Travis hugged him, leaning his forehead on Michael’s shoulder. “But I’ll take my chances with you.”

Michael wanted to ask why but he didn’t. He found he didn’t quite need to know what Travis meant by what he said. The bottom of his guy was ready to burst because Travis was accepting his terms.

“I don’t want to be like Nico and Will,” Travis mumbled against his neck. “Did you see Nico? He’s all broken up, and Will too, I see him sometimes and he’s better than before but he wasn’t. He broke. I don’t want to be broken, Michael.” Travis hugged him tighter.

Michael didn’t really know what to say to that. He had known something was wrong with Nico di Angelo earlier that night. It wasn’t any of his business really.

“Don’t break me.”

Michael almost laughed, because Travis might be saying those words again if they ever had penetrative sex. Instead, he just pulled Travis down with him onto the bed and kissed his starry-eyed boy.

“I can’t promise you that,” Michael whispered against Travis’ cheek. “But I promise I wouldn’t leave you alone if I do.” That was all it took for Travis to suddenly cry.

The rest of the dawn hours Travis made a big deal about apologizing for ruining the moment. Michael was fine with it. He reminded Travis that they haven’t stopped yet, they were just merely going at an even slower pace. Michael didn’t regret telling Travis though, because his face got even redder and he started laughing and crying at the same time. Then Travis was too exhausted and they both finally got some sleep around 8:30 in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the third part of the Demigods Boys Love series, "No Angel for the Wolf-Lover" (Connor's story)


	18. Sensation

Travis wondered why he was in this club. All he was really experiencing from this was total boredom. At first it had seemed interesting so he allowed Nico to drag him to a night club late at night. Then Nico dragged him to another one. And another one. And another.

Being brought out of the shadows Travis groaned. “Where are we now?” he grumbled, gripping the wall at his side for support. There wasn’t any answer from Nico but the music was blaring, and he wasn’t sure how many random shots he’d taken from strangers. His head was pounding.

“There,” Nico said. He pointed down at the dancefloor from the second floor overlooking it that they were on. Travis followed where Nico was pointing and then saw what Nico stared at even though his eyes weren’t well adjusted.

“I’ve been doing this for months when I’m free,” Nico said. The barhopping? The hunting?

“Why is…” Travis tried to ask.

“Even legacies give off a nice scent,” Nico answered with a tone of harshness. “Most of their blood is thinned but every now and then someone is born with natural abilities.” Nico then locked eyes with Travis.

“That’s why you have a place in the cities?” Travis asked finally. It was starting to make some sense at least. Nico nodded. “Damn, trying to act like a superhero…” he grumbled as he turned away. He was trying to be cool, but Travis was actually feeling a bit inadequate in comparison.

“The real reason tonight however…” Nico then said, drawing Travis’ line of sight as he pointed somewhere else. “Today’s Michael Kahale’s last day of this.” So Travis and Nico had been told earlier today.

“I don’t know what _‘this’_ is.”

Nico suddenly yanked him towards the railing to his side. Travis stared closer at where Nico had pointed. There he found Michael being kissed by a blonde woman.

“You mean that?”

“You do know what his occupation is don’t you?” Nico asked. Travis tried to think back but all he recalled from Michael was that he clubbed a lot. That’s what he said when they became housemates. Nico whispered into his ear, “He’s a police officer.”

“That makes no sense,” Travis grumbled. He groaned and grabbed onto the side of his head. It really wasn’t feeling good. Perhaps it was something he drank.

Nico pulled him along towards the stairs to the dancefloor. Travis was too disoriented to know what was going on until Nico yanked him through the dancefloor. The noise hurt him as well as made his body want to move along with the blasting rhythm.

“Travis!”

When he opened his eyes he was groaning into a toilet. Travis retched out the contents in his stomach, groaning again from the stench and the pain in his stomach.

“I told you to eat something before we left,” Nico was saying as the man crotched next to him. It felt oddly nice to have Nico rub his back as he retched again, although nothing came out.

“Don’t go pulling me into the shadows.” Travis tried to stand up weakly but had to lean against the bathroom stall to keep himself up. He found himself taking deep breaths but his lungs were burning up and felt strangled by a snake. “I don’t think…” he tried to say but found himself gasping for breath in the middle of his sentence, “…I can handle shadow-travel.”

“Not a lot of people can,” Nico said as he stood up and brushed at his knees. Travis absently did the same realizing they were in a public bathroom. “It also wears you out faster.” For a moment Travis watched how Nico watched him but tried to seem disinterested.

“What is it?” Travis asked with a sigh. After throwing up he wasn’t exactly in the mood to go in a roundabout with Nico di Angelo.

“How did it feel… shadow-travelling?”

“Like I’m being sucked into space and spat out the other end,” Travis answered immediately without thought. He almost was set to run but Nico didn’t seem bothered by his answer. In fact he almost seemed relieved by it.

“I missed my chance to get the empousa,” Nico sighed as he squeezed past Travis to get out of the bathroom stall. Travis was just following Nico, heading towards the sink when he noticed they were the only ones in it. That was unusual for a night club’s bathroom.

As he was washing his hands, face and rinsing out his mouth he realized Nico was waiting for him. Either they were going to take shadows home or Nico somehow procured them a vehicle. He wasn’t hoping for either since his stomach couldn’t take it and he was fairly certain Nico didn’t drive.

Travis felt a little better when a cool water bottle was pressed to his cheek. He took it and straightened, just about to thank Nico when he realized who he was looking at wasn’t Nico di Angelo but Michael Kahale.

“What are you two doing here?” Michael asked with a stern tone in his voice. Travis found he hated that tone of command.

“Nothing,” Nico replied nonchalantly. Travis almost struck out at him for lying. Even he has never dared to outright lie to Michael Kahale. The man has never been seen in a rage of anger before. Testing his patience when he was obviously trying to control his anger was enough of a scary thought. “I figured Travis could use a good night to drink.” If Travis remembered correctly he was really against being a shadow-travel companion for Nico di Angelo. He only came along because he thought it might actually be interesting.

“Lies.”

“I’m just telling you the truth you want,” Nico replied. He didn’t seem to think he was lying. Then Travis also came to the realization that he’s never heard Nico lie before. “Also exactly what happened—what _I_ was doing is none of your business.” After having said that Nico stepped out of the men’s bathroom and left Travis alone with Michael in an unknown club in gods know where.

“Abandoned by your accomplice,” Michael had commented as he watched Nico leave. Travis was feeling much the same about it but he didn’t want to admit to it either. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Like I would know,” Travis grumbled. His head felt a little clearer but he could still feel the effects of the alcohol in his system.

“Don’t get smart, Travis,” Michael sighed heavily. It was that sound that Travis hated. Like he was a child someone was getting tired of talking to. He heard it so many times over in his life he was tired of even talking to people who thought they knew him.

“I’m just an idiot, how would I know why Nico’s been dragging me to different clubs all night?” Travis grumbled. When he tried to leave he was suddenly held back by Michael’s buff arm. He pushed the arm away and swung around at Michael, his back to the door. “Just leave me alone!”

Michael suddenly lunged forward and pinned him to the back of the door. Travis held his breath as Michael’s gaze leveled with his. Those dark eyes stared deep into his. Feeling self-conscious he turned his gaze to the side and tried to look elsewhere.

“Travis Stoll,” Michael said in a leveled voice. Travis felt his face being moved so he faced Michael again. He felt a rebellious impulse to close his eyes tight just so he wouldn’t have to look at Michael’s face. He decided against testing Michael’s anger. “It is best to put this into your rambling brain now,” Michael said to him in an almost chilling voice, “I hate lies.” Travis felt fear gripping him by his legs and his chest as Michael pressed closer to him, literally lifting him up off the floor with one hand pulling the collar of his shirt. When his ear was finally next to Michael’s lips the man whispered in that chilling leveled voice, “And I take what I want.”

Travis bit his tongue to stop himself from talking back. He wasn’t foolish enough to try to provoke Michael on that. The man might actually hurt Travis this time.

After biting Travis’ earlobe Michael whispered into his ear again, “If you understand that don’t try to test my jealousy again.” Michael released him and Travis felt himself collapsing on the floor. His reflexes had him grabbing Michael’s shoulders to straighten himself up before he actually hit the dirty bathroom floor.

“I wasn’t trying to…” Travis tried to deny the accusations. He found himself not finishing his sentence mostly because a part of him told him it was futile. Travis and Connor were known for lying or playing pranks. Michael would think Travis was just trying to lessen the possible punishment later. Deciding he shouldn’t really deny anything but not accept any of it either he said, “As if you care enough-”

He never got to finish saying what he was trying to say because Michael suddenly grabbed him by the collar again. He was slammed against the door and this time when he looked into Michael’s eyes he really wished he was invisible. Could someone’s stare go through another person so vividly it was as if that person was being stripped naked body and soul?

“I really will bite you this time Stoll,” Michael warned in a dangerously cold voice. Travis felt his knees go stiff, his ankles locking in place, and his shoulders tensing. He couldn’t discern what it was he was feeling but he knew he was afraid of Michael.

Calling on every ounce of his inner abilities, Travis willed himself to finally move. He tried to make Michael relinquish his hold on Travis’ collar but couldn’t, so he resorted to bending his head down and biting Michael’s thick-skinned hand.

When Michael finally slack it wasn’t from the pain, but perhaps from realizing that Travis was pitiful enough to resort to biting a grown man. Travis used the moment to slip from Michael, force open the door and make a run out into the club’s dancefloor.

As he made it for the exit he felt the way his heart beat erratically. He could tell part of him was afraid still, but in his very veins and muscle it was a strange hesitant kind of excitement. Travis wasn’t sure how best to describe or call it.

He somehow slipped into the back exit of the club. Leaning against the building Travis took deep breaths in the fresh cool air. It was cold, really cold but Travis didn’t have time to feel it. All parts of him was still coursing with that strange sensation.

Looking into the sky he could barely see the stars. That was one thing he didn’t like about the Cities. It was so difficult to see the stars, and they always seemed so far away. Uselessly far.

“Stars are supposed to be burning hot,” Travis breathed out with a sigh. He felt a warm hand against his cheeks and felt it brush against something he hadn’t realized was there. 

* * *

 

“Don’t cry,” Michael found himself mumbling. Tears were difficult for him, although he had long since learn to indifferent about the act. Watching Travis’ tears fall bothered him a lot though, because he was so used to seeing Travis as a fun-loving boy running around camp. The curious starry-eyed boy who fell in love with him.

Travis suddenly froze in shock staring at him. It was as though he hadn’t thought Michael would follow. Then he broke from his stupor immediately and brushed his tears away.

Michael sighed out, seeing the way Travis looked frustrated and lost. Grabbing Travis between his neck and jawline Michael pulled him forward until their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate and find the words.

Travis started to struggle after some time. It was as though he came to a sudden decision and was rejecting Michael. Each time he pushed Michael pulled, and when he pulled Michael pushed. Keeping the space between them as close as possible Michael pressed toward the wall with Travis.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Travis shouted at him after giving up. His tears continued to fall. Michael had never seen a grown man actually cry as Travis was, and he found it strange. He was also at a loss about how to handle such situations.

Michael was getting quite frustrated too. He pounded his fist against the cement wall, clenching his teeth tightly. “Let’s go home.” Although it was a struggle he managed to drive them back to the house.

Travis immediately ran for his bedroom, but Michael grabbed him and dragged him to his bedroom instead. “Let go of me!” Travis snapped. Michael tossed Travis onto the bed, and the idiot glared up at him. For some reason that only served to add more fuel.

“Sit!” Michael snapped as Travis started to get out of the bed. Travis quickly pushed himself towards the head of the bed to keep away from Michael.

Grabbing the chair from his desk in his bedroom Michael seated himself in front of the bed. Travis looked afraid at first but began to visually relax and show confusion when Michael took off his shirt. He purposely tossed his tee shirt at Travis on the bed.

“W-what are you d-doing?”

Michael gave a smirk as he unzipped his jeans. “You seemed to need space,” Michael grinned at Travis as he took out his cock and began ministration. He watched the way Travis shyly tried to look elsewhere. The man’s knees came together naturally as he tried to hide proof of his interest in Michael’s ministrations.

“I’m feeling pretty trap, Mike,” Travis said as he tried to keep his eyes at the blinds of Michael’s window. He almost laughed as it was obvious Travis wanted to do one thing but half of him wanted to do another. His eyes kept drifting back to Michael.

Shifting just a bit in his chair he made himself comfortable. As his strokes were getting a bit more serious and less playful he noted how Travis’ eyes were only on him. Although he was facing the window and often closed his eyes and looked elsewhere Michael knew he was too curious about the sight Michael currently presented.

Michael rarely did something like this. He was mostly able to control his arousal, but he’d learned over the months just how impossible that was with Travis. As he watched the way Travis tried not to look, he decided the timidity was more of a turn-on. So to push it a little further he started to talk.


	19. Tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This was a difficult chapter to write. Actually any erotic scene is difficult to write--since I'm not exactly in that mood ever. It may seem like the narration went into a tangent, repeated some things or lost in thought and wrapped back around again... I wrote this chapter in different sittings and while in different moods.

Travis was pretty sure he was going to have a nosebleed or pass out from the heat of his face. He was burning up, hearing the sounds from Michael as well as the words coaxing him to look. Michael described every detail he was doing, what he wanted to do, and what he was thinking of while doing it.

“I wonder how much of me you can take, sometimes.”

Travis gulped, tried not to look at Michael and turned towards the window again. He considered, once more, how he might escape Michael’s bedroom through the window. Travis couldn’t help but hear Michael’s loud exaggerated slurp.

He peeked over and saw how Michael laved and licked his fingers. Michael’s eyes stared intently at him as he licked up his palm to his finger. Travis felt his knees wobbled. If he was standing up he would be toppling to the floor about now.

Michael’s tongue trailed down his hand and up again, flicking just as he reached the tips of his fingers. He watched as Michael’s slicked hand returned to rub Michael’s shaft.

Travis looked away towards the window. _Think, Stoll!_ He tried to remind himself to hatch an escape plan. Any kind. He needed SOMETHING.

“Travis,” Michael gasped his name out in a husky voice. “Think you can take all of me at once? I would love to stick this in your-”

“Aah!” Travis shouted, covering his ears as he’d done the last few times Michael started to describe what he wanted to do to Travis’ ass.

Michael chuckled when Travis finally removed his hands from his ears. He glared at Michael who just smirked and moved his hands faster to pump his cock. Travis felt himself licking his teeth and turned away quickly.

Travis felt himself shuttering even in his core. He couldn’t understand how someone could talk so long about all the things they wanted to do to another person. It felt like hours since Travis was thrown into Michael’s bed, and days since Michael started talking about all the things he wanted to do or were going to do to Travis.

“The question should be whether I’m willing or not,” Travis mumbled to himself. He was so afraid of what may or may not actually occur he didn’t quite care whether Michael was hearing his unusual habit again.

Travis sent Michael another vehement glare that would shrink anyone back, but all Michael did was lick his lips temptingly at Travis. Then he winked slowly and seductively. Travis had a mind to throw something large and hard to dodge at Michael Kahale.

Travis grounded his teeth together in frustration. He tried hard not to think about the protruding erection in his pants.

“Come,” Michael said.

Travis stared at him. The way Michael was staring at him and told Travis just what Michael wanted. He wanted Travis to come to him this time.

“Coming.”

Travis watched Michael cum shoot out. He aimed it all straight at his own body so it all landed spreading over his abs and chest, some droplets even reaching his collarbone and neck. Travis stared, mesmerized by the way Michael smeared the splotches of semen on his skin.

“I’m coming.”

“You just came,” Travis corrected.

Michael smiled in a cocky way before getting up. He then got up and walked towards Travis. 

* * *

 

Michael had Travis caged between his legs. It didn’t seem like Travis was going to make a run for it, but then as he moved the blanket away he noticed why. Travis was shaking all over as if he was afraid, but as Michael reached down to confirm his suspicions Travis suddenly tried to pull away from him.

Pinning Travis down onto the bed, knowing he loomed over Travis, Michael reached down and grabbed Travis’ crotch. He felt the wetness there, unzipped Travis’ jeans and slipped his hand into Travis’ boxers.

“You also came,” Michael couldn’t help but smile. Travis looked appalled by Michael’s words. He found it pretty funny.

Deciding to calm himself to be sure he wasn’t frightening Travis, Michael too a deep breath. “Do you hate me?” Michael asked, sitting up as he pulled Travis’ shirt off. Travis vehemently shook his head as Michael started to pull off Travis’ jeans. “Are you scared?” Again Travis shook his head.

As Michael tossed his own jeans onto the floor Travis started to say, “B-but we’re… We are…” Michael let out a heavy sigh realizing he was back to handling a Travis that could barely say more than ten words to him. “We are going…” He stared down at the naked Travis under him. The man looked nervous. He was also self-conscious as it seemed he kept trying to hide his stomach by wrapping his arms around his waist. “Slow… Right?”

Looking at his face was like looking at a tomato. Michael would have felt inclined to laugh if he hadn’t been thinking how cute the image was. Travis being overwhelmed was a nice kind of pleasure.

“Don’t worry I don’t plan to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Michael assured. He was going to push how comfortable Travis could get though.

He leaned down and kissed Travis, making sure to be as chaste with the kiss as possible. When he pulled away Travis seemed slightly confused and perhaps just a little disappointed, but he tried not to look Michael in the eyes. This time he kissed Travis a little deeply and passionate. Travis looked overwhelmed and breathless so Michael decided to try again.

Kissing with just his lips, making sure he didn’t do too much or too little was difficult. Michael held himself back until he could gauge exactly the best way to kiss Travis, which was particularly hard to do. He knew Travis already felt awkward but each time he changed the pace and style of the kiss he could feel the tension and awkwardness hiking even higher.

Michael finally decided it was enough kissing, seeing as Travis was running out of breath and his lips were getting dried. Later it was going to feel rather sore and bruised.

“Dizzy…” Travis mumbled. For a moment it was like Travis literally saw stars. Michael smiled and nuzzled Travis’ neck until the guy groaned and tried to get him to move away.

“You’re ticklish?” Michael almost laughed but he found it too funny. He started to lick and suck around Travis’ neck and shoulder, pecking him with kisses until he started to shake with laughter. He continued to assault Travis with his attention until Travis went from laughter to moans.

Michael grabbed Travis’ arms, which have been wrapped around his waist to hide his stomach to entire time, and moved them up to wrap them around his neck. Travis looked shocked that Michael made him cling to him.

For a moment it looked like Travis was fighting with himself whether or not to ask. He might not realize he was muttering underneath his breath. Michael gave him a kiss on the lips, staying just a little longer together than he’d meant to before pulling away. Knowing Travis was a little dazed by the unexpected kiss while lost in thought, Michael took the opportunity to start kissing down Travis’ rapidly heating body.

Travis’ nervous hands around his shoulders slowly moved up his neck to his ears, the side of his head into his hair. Michael moved slowly down until he was by that patch of hair at Travis’ pelvis, running his hands through it and pecking testing kisses on Travis’ hardened member.

The grip in his hair tightened the moment Michael put the wet tip in his mouth. Deciding against looking at what face Travis was making, he reached one of his arms up towards Travis’ chest to press him down. He slowly descended down on Travis’ cock, and lave his tongue around the tip and the length in his mouth.

He continued trying different things until Travis’ grip tightened. Michael realizing being tugged down while going down on someone was probably not the best way to suffocate. He almost laughed if he didn’t already know what the consequences would be for doing so. Michael pressed down on Travis’ chest a little harder to signal Travis to stop trying to plunge into his mouth.

Suddenly he heard a cry out, and then his mouth unexpectedly took in Travis’ cum. Gagging and coughing Michael pulled away from Travis, spilling some cum onto his hand as he cough. Michael couldn’t help but cough as he accidentally swallowed some when he gagged.

“Sorry!” Travis squeaked as Michael sat up on his knees. Travis started moving towards the front of the bed, pulling his legs in. His entire face was red as he pulled a pillow around to his front. “I didn’t mean…” Travis looked like he was going into another panic attack very soon.

Michael quickly collected the man into his arms, seating them together the same way he’d done in his old studio apartment in Salt Lake City. He put his chest against Travis’ back, letting him feel the rhythm of Michael’s breaths. Putting a hand on Travis’ chest as well, just over his heart, he gently let Travis know through body contact who was with him.

“Calm down,” Michael whispered into his ear. “It’s very normal for things like this to happen.”

“But…”

“No one said sex was graceful,” Michael quickly interrupt Travis’ train of thought. “It’s not like in romance movies or porn.” He could feel the tension in Travis slowly ease away and tightened his hold on the man. “There are mistakes, and sometimes we fumble around, and sometimes it seems we’re in perfect sync, maybe our bodies are compatible and maybe they aren’t…” Michael started listing several pros and cons.

“Ah, I get it shut up!” Travis finally shouted, kicked his legs out at the pillows around them and running his hands through his hair wildly. “It’s okay to be a weirdo in bed, right?” he shouted, probably saying things out loud without thinking again. Michael liked that about him, but he would never tell Travis that. It seemed like Travis went to great lengths to prevent himself from talking to himself.

Michael kissed the back of Travis’ shoulder, just by the back of his neck. “As long as you and your partner feel good and neither of you are doing something the other doesn’t, and of course the act is by consent and there’s no real danger, it’ll be just fine.” Michael felt Travis completely relax and his breathing level, realizing then that Travis had fallen asleep after being reassured.

Doing what he did tonight was probably not the best thing either. Michael mentally lashed himself for his lack of discipline as he cleaned up and washed Travis’ body with a wet towel. He changed the top of his sheets dirtied by what they’d done on top of them, and pulled out an extra from his closet. He then gathered the clothes on the floor and threw them into his laundry basket.

While taking a hot shower Michael thought having done what he did to an already drunk and ill Travis wasn’t the smartest thing. He’s seen Travis at his worst last April during spring break. It wasn’t the best picture, but he also understood Travis had sought out fun and alcohol because of his intense feelings for Michael. However there wasn’t any reason for Travis to have gotten so drunk tonight. He suddenly wanted to beat Nico di Angelo in the face for dragging Travis all over the place and yet not watching his health.

Michael sat on the edge of his bed with a towel around his waist and another to dry his hair. As he was toweling his hair he thought absently about the length and whether he needed to get it cut. He also ran his hand through his beard, considering that he should probably shave it off as well. It wasn’t like he liked the look.

Suddenly he remembered Ernest asking why he didn’t shave. A storm of emotions struck at the pit of his gut. Emotions he had never had use for, and that he had always kept tightly buried down. He quickly made a prayer to the gods to watch over Ernest in his endeavors, making a mental note he should make a proper offering.

Michael stood up and got ready for bed. He slipped under the sheets then and considered just sleeping on his side at the far end close to the window. However he looked at Travis in his deep sleep and decided against that. Collecting the sleeping man into his arms Michael arranged them both in the middle of his large bed, his arm wrapped around Travis’ waist and his hand on the man’s stomach. His other arm he stuck under the pillow under Travis’ head.

Michael also made a note that he was going to have to tell Travis what was going on. It was difficult as Michael didn’t often talk to anyone about his life, his ambitions or for that matter about much of anything. He knew Travis had a right to know, and that he was asking for Travis to put in a lot of faith in him when he offered the man nothing in return. Dreading the idea had been something he’s been doing for months now.

Michael went to sleep with the prophecy that started all thing ringing in his head. He knew if Travis had never heard it he would never be so hung up about his attraction to Michael. He also knew it was why Travis had bothered putting so much faith in having a relationship with Michael, as strained and awkward and seemingly non-existent as it was.

Of course what puzzled him most was the last line: _what lies broke a single choice will seal._


	20. Unveiling Confessions

Travis collapsed in the snow covered grass of his campus in the mall area that Saturday. After Michael explained what had been going on in the last few months Travis needed to run. He didn’t know how long it had been since he ran without stopping or thinking but what looked like the foggy cloud-covered sun was already high in the gray sky. Minnesota never looked drearier than when it had foggy gray skies and clouds that look like mist.

Closing his eyes as his heated body sank into the snow Travis remembered Michael’s words. The perfect idiot had to start off with, _“I want to apologize.”_ Then he had ended his monologue of an explanation with, _“How do you feel about all this?”_

Travis rolled over until his face was buried in the snow. He groaned out loud. “What am I supposed to say?” Travis dug his cold fingers into the snow underneath him. Michael was a police officer. He’d gone through the Academy in New Rome, and because of whatever was happening between Michael and _Augustus’_ family he’d been stuck in New Rome until last year. Then he started in Salt Lake City, but that quickly changed because of his stupid face and the things that happened at his station there. Then he was transferred to the Twin Cities, which was bullshit to Travis. Coincidences didn’t just happen out of nowhere.

And…

And!

“Nico knew…” Travis whispered into the snow. He was hastily getting colder but he didn’t care. He was too wrapped up in thought. He realized now what Nico meant at the club, what Nico had been trying to tell Travis. He rolled on his back again. Then one little detail popped up into his head. “Nico doesn’t know about Will.”

Travis closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Will had not been in a good place after a year ago at Nico’s apartment. He still wasn’t in a good place. He’d managed to get himself licensed and all that jazz to be a paramedic. Only he decided instead he was going to become a police officer and was currently still in the Academy for that. Unlike New Rome, Camp Half-Blood didn’t have a professional development program. One did have a very good recommender from Chiron—and possible Mr. D on paper.

“What does he need to know?” a voice asked over him.

Travis opened his eyes and found Michael looming over him. Before he could say anything in reply Michael grabbed his arm and pulled him up. Then without letting Travis at least brush the snow off Michael led him off by the same arm. Travis didn’t try to say anything or make a scene because though there wasn’t a lot of people there were still students and staffs of the campus around. He followed without a fuss or a whine.

Travis was pushed into the front passenger seat of Michael’s SUV. He stared as Michael walked around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. He had mixed feelings about what he was finally noticing.

Michael looked angry. Really angry.

Travis decided it was in his best interest not to remind Michael he had a quiz he needed to study for in three weeks. The semester only just started. He also decided it was best not to remind Michael that Travis had planned to sit in on the one-time optional lecture to his online class today. He could just watch the video of it over the weekend instead since his instructor had said they would video tape the guest speaker.

Instead, Travis let Michael drive them back to their shared house. He also followed Michael inside quietly. When he took off his shoes—only realizing how cold he was with the difficulty of taking off his snow-wet sneakers—a chill immediately ran up and down his body. From his toes to his cheeks and eyes Travis clenched. A wave of pure freezing chill settled into his bones.

After managing to get his shoes and wet socks off Travis was suddenly pulled into the bathroom. First Michael stripped him, which Travis had a lot to say over. He didn’t like how abrupt all this was, and he didn’t appreciate feeling like a puppet being pulled here and there to do things. Michael didn’t speak despite all of Travis’ complaints and grumbles. Instead he undressed, having already shed his jacket and Travis’ jacket in the hallway.

The shower was turned on and Travis was lifted unwillingly into the bathtub, then joined by Michael. He would have said the scene was cliché if it wasn’t for the fact that Michael was still scowling, and scowling at Travis more importantly.

“What is your problem?” Travis finally seethed at him.

Michael asked back, “What is yours?”

That took him by surprise, he hadn’t expected that response. Michael was usually very cryptic or very witty. Sometimes annoying but a little romantic, or downright stoic.

Travis stayed quiet the rest of the time, deciding instead it was best to watch silently. So far Michael wasn’t causing him any harm and had no intention to. It didn’t seem bad either to have someone willingly do things for him.

So he let Michael adjust the hot spray to a temperature that wasn’t scalding for Travis. He let Michael wash him, soap him, rinse him, shampoo and condition his hair, and wash him again. The way Michael touched him then was very different from the heated way Michael touched him when they were in bed. It was distant and systematic. Michael was also flaccid the entire time he washed Travis and himself up. Embarrassingly enough, Travis had felt himself jerk the lower Michael went with his hands.

Travis let himself be led out of the tub after the shower, then dried. He watched the way a very wet and dripping Michael knelt down and dried him from his feet to his legs. He toweled down Travis and then quickly dried himself with a different towel.

Michael never looked him in the eyes. His hair covered his face, suddenly making Travis realize how different it looked from a month ago when they kissed during New Year’s. Michael’s hair grew long fast, something he had never realized because he did his best most times not to look at Michael, show his affections or be called out on them again. So he always avoided looking too closely at Michael’s face, though he often took his time memorizing the rest of Michael’s features. It felt a waste to have only realized this now.

He was led into Michael’s room, where he was seated on the edge of the well-made bed. He noted the different colored sheets but didn’t point it out. He let Michael dry his hair, thinking maybe he also needed a trim. Travis looked up when Michael stopped toweling his hair.

He stared into Michael’s eyes, finally being able to look him in the eyes. Michael had stopped scowling down. Instead there was an indescribable expression welling up in them. Travis felt bad, a part of him came to the realization it might be his fault that Michael looked that way.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Michael shook his head. He walked away and began dressing. Then he came over with a clean shirt and had Travis put it on. It was a little big on him since it was Michael’s shirt, but Travis didn’t mind. It felt comfortable.

“You’re worried about something…” Travis guessed from the expression. He still couldn't quite describe it but “worry” was the closest word he found to it. He’d only see such an overflowing set of emotion from Michael once, and that had been during Spring Break the year before.

Biting back the frown on his face Travis forced himself to remember past the embarrassing and less than shameful moments. Michael had broken down reading Malek El-Amin’s journal. He’d cried for the little boy named Ernest. It didn’t take long to put two-and-two together. It was about Ernest Malek El-Amin.

Michael refused to talk to him. He instead sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at the floor. There was an even darker scowl on his face that earlier. Like he was contemplating many things in his life. The things that were convenient and inconvenient.

Without being prompted or invited Travis sat down beside Michael. He made sure there was a distance between them, as he couldn’t gauge how close or far to be from Michael. Travis just knew that of the few expressions he has seen on Michael, this was not one of the ones he liked seeing. It didn’t put him at ease. In fact it made Travis more anxious.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever. Travis didn’t know where to start a conversation—funny since he never really had that problem before. Michael wasn’t one to talk much either.

He heard a ring and looked around. Michael picked up the phone on his dresser after getting up off the bed.

“Kahale,” Michael sighed out loud. The person on the other end talked and Michael grunted affirmation. Travis couldn’t hear much, but gathered enough to know it was about Ernest and that the person on the other end was Reyna and Frank speaking on speaker to Michael. It was strange to see demigod business done through normal conventions.

Michael ended the call with, “If you could…” Then he sighed heavily after hanging up and putting the phone back on his dresser.

“What’s wrong with Ernest?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie.”

Michael glared down at him for a minute. Then he relaxed and plopped down next to Travis. Travis tensed when he realized Michael’s thigh touched his, their knees pushing against each other, and Michael’s hand was casually sprawled on top of his.

 “I’m not lying,” Michael said. “Ernest has finally left Lupa’s pack.” Travis said ‘oh’ but he didn’t really know how to react to that. The only initiation into Camp Half-Blood had been getting into its protective field. Michael didn’t seem concern by Travis stumbling with a way to react properly to that news about Ernest. “For some it takes years. It is surprising he finished so early. The _praetors_ are telling me there’s a problem.”

“What problem?”

“Octavian’s family wants to sponsor him.”

Travis made a face without thinking about it. Just hearing the name of the guy who had been twisted enough to lead an attack on Camp Half-Blood years ago had him blanching. If it wasn’t for the Romans who had made an effort to really show there was a possible partnership, Travis had a feeling what they had now in comradery with each camp wouldn’t even exist.

“They are of the Apollo house…” Michael mumbled. Travis was also surprised that Michael was mumbling. He was always very efficient even in his speech.

Taking a look around them room Travis came to realization that Michael was not calm. He was shaken but held the outer appearance that he was doing fine. Michael’s usually well folded clothes or discard clothes were sprawled on the floor. The towel he had on earlier was also thrown on the bed. His jeans weren’t even buttoned and the zipper was slowly inching down clinging to his hips. He had his t-shirt on inside out and backwards.

“You don’t want that family getting a hold of your little man,” Travis said, surprised he was so calm. He reached up and tugged on the tag in front of Michael’s collar. Michael’s eyes widened at realizing he was wearing his shirt inside out and backwards.

The man didn’t argue as Travis pulled the shirt off Michael. He turned the shirt outside in and was about to put the shirt on Michael again. Travis paused when he saw the way Michael was looking at him. His harsh scowl was now a soft gaze.

“What?”

With a smile Michael then grabbed Travis’ hands holding his shirt. He pulled them down and then pulled Travis a step closer. Michael kissed him in that soft lingering kind of way he sometimes did. It was almost as if Michael was reluctant to pull away from the kiss the way bit and pulled on Travis’ bottom lip with his teeth.

Travis found he couldn’t look Michael in the eyes.

“You’re very domesticated.”

Travis felt a fury rise in him and pushed at Michael’s chest. He heard Michael’s soft laugh because Michael didn’t even budge. It made Travis redder, part from embarrassment at how weak he was in comparison to Michael but also from the frustration that he was so much weaker.

“S-so what if I am?” Travis snapped angrily. Before Michael could reply, while Travis made himself look anywhere but at Michael he rushed to say, “Considering how you’re such a routine guy of course I’ll seem domesticated.” He took a deep breath for courage too and burst out, “And what if I want to hold hands, or have soft kisses sometimes? What if I like sitting on the sofa and like you sitting there with me? I like your cooking, I mean I did…” For a moment Travis stopped himself, puffing his cheek so he wouldn’t say the words. It would be embarrassing to admit after nearly a year that he’d proposed once to Michael because of the man’s cooking. “Anyways, what’s so bad about watching you do your morning routine sometimes? It’s not my fault you give people such a great view! Also…” Travis took another heavy breath to steady himself then he blurted, “What’s so wrong about imagining that you love me?”

Travis bit his tongue and pulled away immediately. He stumbled against the bed and fell onto it sprawling over it. Travis felt the air escape his lungs. His habit of saying the things in his head, and that he had let his guard down around Michael who seemingly rarely cared that he sometimes talked to himself, had just landed him in one of the worst situations ever.

He just told Michael how desperately he wanted the one thing Michael could never give him…


	21. The Angel's Promise

The words Travis had just said held Michael back. He hesitated, something he rarely did since Octavian’s death. Since those golden chains were lifted off him. Travis had just confessed to a lot of things, things that sounded like lazy-Sunday fantasies but were actual things Michael had prompted and done. Things he had mindfully done knowing the way Travis would take the implication.

Finding the ability to breathe again less of a labor Michael crawled over Travis who had fallen on top of the bed. Travis was alarmed, and he knew the quiet made the other man anxious.

Travis pushed at his chest and he let himself be moved out of the way. He didn’t want the man to have bad memories or to feel cornered. Michael knew this was a deciding point for them. What he chose to say and do at this moment would decide how they progressed later on.

“I gave you a promise Travis Stoll.” Michael stared into those confused eyes of the once young boy with a massive crush on him. When he felt he had Travis’ undivided attention—because knowing his starry-eyed Travis the guy had been racking his braining thinking of promises. “More specifically a vow.”

“A vow?”

“Come, since the _Pontifex_ is here on account of an earlier situation.” Michael got up and pulled Travis up with him. It was good fortune that Jason Grace was coming to meet with Michael, as it was known by the _praetors_ that Ernest had a close connection to him. If anything Michael could had served as Ernest’s recommendation to New Rome.

Michael quickly found some nice clothes in Travis’ unorganized closet. Dark black jeans that had probably been worn once, and a gray V-neck shirt he’d never seen Travis wear. He dressed Travis in the clothes quickly, found a belt in the closet that seemed to go well with the black pants and found a navy colored peacoat that also got him wondering what else was hiding in Travis’ closet of wonder.

“Put these shoes on.” Michael put down a pair of socks and the fashionable dark ankle-high boots he found on Travis’ shoe rack. He left the room to dress himself more presentably. While doing so he contacted Jason Grace on his phone, which took a couple of tries. He figured the man was lost trying to navigate downtown Minneapolis.

He gave Jason the directions he would need to get to where Michael wanted them to meet, then he called Nico di Angelo. It was last-minute, something he didn’t like to do, but of all the people closest to their situation it was the Ambassador to Pluto. It was also clear that di Angelo would be around town for a couple more days. Especially in the state that he was in.

“Damn…”

Michael turned to his door where he saw Travis standing and staring at him wide eye. Just then Nico di Angelo answered his phone. Michael hadn’t bothered to actually look at Travis earlier when he was picking out clothes for him to wear. He hadn’t expected with the array of clothes he had been able to find and put together that Travis would look so amazing in them. He wasn’t wearing the peacoat yet, and Travis had thrown on a black vest over his V-neck shirt. Just the image of Travis standing there dressed so fashionably had Michael stiffening. 

* * *

 

Travis had put on the clothes and added a vest as Michael asked. He hadn’t been sure why, but at the least Michael hadn’t seemed angry or worried anymore. He seemed more like himself with whatever was now on his mind. Travis had meant to knock when he went to Michael’s room again, but it had been cracked open and he’d heard Michael cursing under his breath when he couldn’t reach someone on the phone.

Travis pushed the already open door even wider. There he saw the half-dressed Michael, dress pants on with an unbuttoned shirt thrown on with three different ties hung around his shoulders.

It was a vision Travis had never really imagined before. It made Michael seem more obtainable, which was strange. At the moment Michael looked about half dressed for success. Compared to when he was wearing normal clothes or in his sweats, it was almost like his aura of attractiveness was too much. Now it seemed to blend.

“Damn…” The word escaped Travis before he could stop himself. He’d sighed it out simply because watching Michael button up his shirt and tuck it in was so sexy. It was like watching a powerful man of money get dressed for an important meeting, and he carried so much confidence that Michael would pull it off.

Michael noticed him. They stared at each other for what felt like forever before Michael hung up on his call and threw his phone on the bed. Michael slowly approached him, keeping eye contact with Travis. Slowly his hand caressed down Travis’ before pulling them up and having them latch onto the neckties.

“Which one looks better?” Michael asked him.

Travis registered the question but he was more engrossed on something else. He reached up and touched the beard on the man’s face. “I wanna see the beardless Roman I saw on the battlefield…” Travis knew he said that out loud when he hadn’t meant to, but he didn’t shy away this time. He was too engrossed in the enchantment that Michael had suddenly set on him.

Michael’s reaction was to smile. Instead of denying the suggestion, Michael ran his hand through Travis’ hair. He seemed to understand with that touch that Michael wanted Travis to style his hair.

So they were both in the bathroom. One shaving and the other putting gel in his hair and combing it properly. Travis snuck peeks in the giant mirror in the bathroom to look at Michael. He watched those large hands hold the safety razor and deftly shave off his beard. Travis pulled his eyes away before Michael noticed him staring for too long.

“What is it?”

Travis froze up. He slowly locked eyes with Michael in the mirror. Michael pulled the razor from his face. Part of him was laughing deep inside his chest because Michael looked like a really badly costumed Santa with the shaving cream on his face.

With a sigh Michael put the safety razor down. Travis moved back quickly as Michael reached down into a drawer and pulled a hairdryer from it.

“I’ll do your hair if you shave me,” Michael said. He put the hairdryer down on the counter, then he put down the seat cover for the toilet and sat on it. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin up.

Travis stood there speechless.

“Come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Okay…”

So Travis found himself shaving Michael. He stood between the man’s powerful thighs and shaved him. They worked slowly in silence, even as Michael slowly opened his eyes and stared up at Travis. Travis couldn’t help looking into those eyes, and almost getting lost in them.

“Hurry.”

With the quiet reminder that Michael murmured Travis went back to work. His earlier feelings were all but buried somewhere, waiting to erupt. He knew this but Travis was glad for the distraction. Whatever it was, it kept him feeling controlled and sane.

After he’d finished shaving Michael he moved away. Michael grabbed him and made him sit on the toilet now. He felt the heat of where Michael sat earlier. It was a weird sensation. Before he knew it Michael’s hands were running through his hair, gently smoothing through the strands and then the comb and warm air from the hairdryer was blow at him. He kept his eyes tightly shut until it was all over.

He was standing in the bathroom staring in the mirror at his hair. It didn’t look all that different from how it normally was, but it did. It was a weird feeling. It looked fancier, a little nicer—polished. And how did Michael get one side of his hair to sleek back like that? His bangs came down together and didn’t separate as it normally would after a few tousle of his head here and there. Travis could only conclude it was magic.

“Alright, pick one.” A hand stretched out in front of him with three different ties handing over a forearm. Travis looked down and followed as the arm came up towards Michael’s chest. “So?” Michael put the ties as close to his neck and chest as possible so Travis could compare which one best to wear.

Travis didn’t really know what to say. He grabbed the middle one. “This one looks nice.” Michael considered it for some time before nodding and walking away.

Travis peeked from the bathroom down the hall into Michael’s bedroom where the door was open. Michael had put the other two ties away and had started knotting the blue and grey necktie. How strange, Travis had never seen Michael seem more… happy. It was a quiet kind of happiness, like contentment. 

* * *

 

Michael quickly parked them in the closest parking meter and practically dragged Travis hand in hand with him. He knew Travis was wondering why they were dressed up—him newly shaved—and walking on his snowy campus again. Michael had reached Nico di Angelo again after he’d gone to get his tie so Travis could pick one of them out.

He walked them on the Washington Avenue Bridge. Travis was stuttering out questions. Michael gave non-answers in three words or less. When the finally reached the middle of the bridge, the spot where he kissed Travis during the New Year, he stopped and looked around. Soon enough Jason and Nico appeared from a door that led to the inside of the shelter that spanned the length of the bridge.

“So is this really happening?” Jason asked. Michael nodded. He kept his hold on Travis’ hand.

“I’m the witness to this?” Nico sighed as he ran his hand through his shaggy black hair. He seemed irritated, but he was wearing a black suit himself.

“Alright I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Jason said as Michael walking him and Travis up to the man. He did seem pretty confused. Jason hid his confusion within seconds after Michael held his and Travis’ intertwined hands out to him.

Jason was uncertain for a second before sighing. He put his hand on top of Michael and Travis’ and closed his eyes. Jason Grace visibly stood straighter and treated the moment as if it was truly a sanctioned ceremony to be recognized.

“By the power vested in me, as _Pontifex Maximus_ I now declare you—wait!” Jason opened his eyes as he suddenly seemed to remember something. He leaned in a little closer to them. “Are you two sure about this? An oath isn’t easy to break, especially not one like this.”

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t really know what’s going on…” Travis piped in.

Jason looked bewildered. He took a step away from them. “You’re getting married. Isn’t that why I was called here?” He looked between Michael and Travis. Michael didn’t feel like explaining.

“We’re getting married?” Travis turned to Michael.

He felt a headache coming on but he fought it down somehow. “Two men _can_ get married. I promised you in April.”

“I’m so confused right now…” Travis mumbled as he pulled his hand away.

“I promised to marry you.”

“No you didn’t.”

“I did. So let’s get married.”

Travis glared up at him. He snapped at Michael, “I don’t want to marry you because you promised.” Travis’ rage was a rare sight that he didn’t mind seeing more of if he could.

“Marriage is a promise—a vow,” Michael pointed out. He didn’t know what else Travis wanted from him. He was finally free to keep his promise, he could provide for Travis and care for him. “What more could you want from me? We already live together.”

“We are fellow tenants in the same house, Kahale. That is very different,” Travis seethed. His hands clenched and unclenched as though he couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch Michael or slap him.

Michael inwardly groan. He knew what Travis was looking for. What he wanted to hear from Michael. He was not about to lie.

“I will care and provide for you as best I can, to stay with you through thick and thin, when you get nightmares and night terrors, and I will not betray your love for me.” It was the best Michael could do, and he stood firmly as he stared hard at Travis. He could tell Travis did not want to embarrass himself by blurting out the first things that popped in his head like he normally did. Travis had this strange thing where he was uncommonly quiet. As if instead of speaking out loud impulsively like he normally would when talking to himself, Travis was analyzing every piece of information he’d taken into his brain.

For what felt like hours they stood out in the clothes waiting on Travis’ response. “When was the proposal?” Travis asked, genuinely curious and confuse about that part.

Michael smiled, laughing deep inside somewhere in his heart. Travis bit his lips out of frustration. Michael rubbed the bite away with his thumb, watching those paling lips turn pink.

He bent down just a little so his lips reached Travis’ ear and whispered, “Spring break, you asked me to marry you while stuffing your face into my bed after falling in love with my cooking.” He licked Travis’ earlobe and blew a hot breath against it before pulling away.

Travis was growling when Michael straightened up. He found it endearing that Travis could be embarrassed, scandalized, and angry all at the same time.

“Fine!” Travis shouted angrily at Michael. “I will be with you, Michael Kahale, for every day of your life. So I can be sure you never get to date another man or woman again, and make you suffering bad cooking, and… and…”

Michael smiled, because he knew Travis was trying to make him regret pushing them to this point. He also knew all the emotional doubt Travis was going through. Michael never made an effort to really show Travis at all that they would get married and be together.

“And…”

Travis looked frustrated as he closed his eyes tight. Michael decided to help him out. “I will support you. All you need to do is be with me.” Travis nodded.

“So…” Jason held out his hand to them. “You two ready for this or not?”

“Yes.”

Jason did his spew again. “Do both of you consent as a willing party? Also, marriage is pretty permanent,” Jason pointed out. He seemed to worry about a lot of aspect about marriage. Michael wasn’t. “If you two are both in agreement and willingly marrying the other, then you may do the ring exchange and kiss.”

“Here,” Nico appeared right next to them. From his pocket he fished out two golden bands. Michael thanked him as he and Travis exchanged rings.

Travis seemed nervous when they finally sealed their marriage with a kiss.

As he slowly pulled away Michael whispered against Travis’ lips, “Wedding night.” Travis visibly turned pale and limp as Michael swooped him off his feet. He gave both a quick regard before rushing back towards the car.

Being impulsive like this was something Michael hadn’t been in a long time. He didn’t mind it, seeing as it got him what he wanted.


	22. Belonging on the Wedding Night

Connor was going to kill him. As he got off the Pegasi Line he ran from the bus stop down the three blocks he got off. Connor felt his duffle bag bouncing on his back where it was slung as he ran. He almost slipped on ice three times but he was glad there was enough snow around for him to use as a way to catch his grip. He didn’t lose momentum thanks to that.

He wasn’t sure how he actually got inside. He wasn’t being quiet about it.

“MICHAEL KAHALE!” he bellowed in the living room. Michael appeared from the hallway in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Glad you could make it, Con.”

“How in Hades do you think I wouldn’t come when I get a call telling me you’re marrying my brother? Did he even agree to this?” Connor snapped. He threw down the duffle bag on the floor and relaxed his knees. He pulled his sword out from his duffle bag. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You brother was fully aware when we made our vows that we were getting married before the gods,” Michael said sternly as he stood with his legs apart and his arms folded to his chest.

“So it is Connor,” Travis popped out from the hallway too. Connor stopped himself from attacking and relaxed his swordhand. “Hey, bro!” Travis smiled at him. Connor squinted his eyes, because he knew that smile. It was a fake smile. “Did you come to celebrate with me? Spending the night?” The look in Travis’ eyes said he was relieved. Suddenly Connor was making connections he shouldn’t be making.

They _just_ got married. Gods, Connor just walked into a house with possibly a very sexually frustrated…

Connor smiled. “Yeah, I am.” He glanced at Michael who was walking into the hallway again. “Explain to me how this suddenly happened.” He also wanted to figure out what the dastard could have done to trick his brother—who was known for his trickery alongside Connor—into an oath of marriage. To be able to trick a trickster was not a common feat.

So Travis told him about the last couple of days, from meeting Nico di Angelo again down to the succession of events that landed him married. Travis felt his head about to explode. Now there was _another_ kid in the picture? Not only that but people in New Rome was actually fighting over each other to _sponsor_ the kid? That was like saying they were all having a shouting match about who had the most money to pay for this kid to live the horrible life of a demigod and learn to kill things. Of course Travis didn’t really understand Roman culture.

“So basically…” Connor felt the headache assault him. He was sitting in his shorts and muscle shirt, Travis in ducky pajamas and a t-shirt. They were watching _Home Alone_ while eating the pints of ice cream Michael had generously gone out and bought for them. He could care less, if it was possible Connor would eat the entire contents of the refrigerator just to piss Michael off. “You of all people got roped into marriage. What, next you’re going to tell me you’re content with settling down even if he is NEVER going to love you back.”

Connor leaned his back on the foot of the couch as he watched the scene where the kid slide down the stairs. He stuffed a spoonful of chocolate mint ice cream into his mouth and observed his brother gingerly nibble on the scoop of vanilla ice cream on his spoon.

“Bro,” Connor sighed. Connor didn’t want to say it but he had to, “You can’t just accept what he’s willing to give you. Can’t you demand more of him?”

He watched as his brother chewed on his lower lip. Travis did that when he was deep in thought sometimes. Watching the way his brother seemed so uncertain Connor could conclude Travis was afraid to demand anything of Michael. If he pushed too hard Travis might just lose the other man forever.

“I’m going to go stay at Will’s tonight. I haven’t seen Alethea in a while,” Connor abruptly decided. He had already sent Will the text message two hours ago, but Will had training and work. Will would have to pick him up on his way home and now should be around the time that he got here.

“Huh? But I thought…” Travis looked up at Connor. He didn’t bother changing out of his thin clothes, he just grabbed his duffle and smiled at his brother.

“Trav, breaking an oath you made before the gods—even if it was done in front of Jason instead—is serious business. Not even your perfect Roman angel would dare to break your heart simply because you ask him why he married you.” Connor smiled, knowing he’d caught his brother there. Travis had frozen in place, nearly dropping his spoon into the bucket of ice cream he had been slowly let melt to waste. That was the question he knew Travis had been wanting to ask, what had shone in his eyes, what could so easily be read he wondered why Michael Kahale hadn’t bothered to answer it yet.

“Dammit Connor!” Travis growled finally. Connor had already gotten his shoes on and was heading for the front door. “Hey!” Travis was chasing him down but Connor just laughed childishly, watching as Michael stepped out of his bedroom looking like he just woke up out of bed.

“You!” Connor snapped at Michael, because he was still angry. He brandished his sword at Michael and sent him a fierce glare. “Don’t think I won’t kill you if you hurt my brother.”

The annoying jerk just smirked and lifted his chin up in arrogance as he leaned against his door. What an overconfident pose, as if he didn’t even need to take a stance in case Connor ran him through now.

“Stop that!” Travis smacked his face and forced Connor to glare at him instead. This time more annoyed than angry.

“I can’t promise he won’t hurt, but I’ll be there to take care of him. You should be worried about finding someone to watch over that tender heart of yours Con,” Michael retorted in a calm and arrogant tone.

“Shut up Mike!”

“There’s no one by that name here,” Michael replied.

“Come on, Will’s waiting!” Travis pushed Connor out the door finally, and he let himself. Gods he hated Michael Kahale, and he hated the cold and he especially hated the prophecy! 

* * *

 

“Ugh…” Travis grunted out a weird sound of annoyance when he finally closed the door on Connor. Michael smiled, watching Travis pound his head lightly against the front door. “Stupid. Idiot.”

Michael walked past him into the living room and started to pick up the mess of ice cream cartons, empty pop cans and bags of chips. He smiled again when he came back to pick up the couple plates left on the floor as well as the ice cream left over to return to the freezer. There was one plate with just ketchup on it, and as he put that plate on top of another one he stood up and turned to meet Travis’ shy personality.

“Uh… that’s…” Travis seemed to be trying to explain the ketchup to him. His face was burning, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the penchant for ketchup. “Well… uh…”

Suddenly Travis rushed to the kitchen table and picked up a bag of chips he’d just rolled up. He walked back to Michael and took a chip from the bag, dipping the potato chip into the ketchup and holding it up to Michael’s lips.

“Try it!”

Michael ate the chip without hesitating. He licked Travis’ fingers before pulling away his mouth. The strange mix of potato chip—sour and cream flavored—with ketchup in his mouth wasn’t bad. It was strange but a familiar taste.

“I-It’s good, right?” Travis stared up at him, as though he was waiting for some strange approval. Like being denied this could totally shatter the man’s heart.

Michael took the plate of ketchup and put it on the drawer next to the couch. He finished picked up the ice cream and walked back into the kitchen. Quickly depositing the items where they needed to be Michael returned and pulled Travis onto the couch with him.

“Let’s continue where you left off,” Michael suggested in a quiet tone in Travis’ ear. He knew there was enough space for both of them on the couch, but he left Travis sitting between his legs sharing one seat. Michael put the bag of chips on Travis’ lap and held the plate of ketchup in one hand. He enjoyed watching Travis’ jittery anxiousness while he acted naturally and ate the potato chips with ketchup.

After some time Travis relaxed against him. Then he was able to feed Travis a few potato chips. Before long the bag of chips was done, the ketchup mostly gone and the plate left on the floor. Just as the kid in the _Home Alone_ movie (of course Travis would have this on Blu-Ray) was setting up his annoying little safety hazard traps, Michael was stretched out on the length of the couch with Travis sleeping on top of him.

Knowing Travis if Michael tried to move the man would wake up immediately. Thinking of his options Michael decided to stay in this position a little longer, uncomfortable though it was, until the movie was over and he was sure Travis was sound asleep.

Michael spent most of the time staring at Travis sleeping in his arms. Then he looked at the gold band on his finger. Meeting Nico di Angelo had been unexpected but he was glad it gave him a chance to commission the rings from him. He’d heard from different sources of Nico’s strange ability to retrieve certain items, or to get certain works done. He hadn’t thought it would have been so easily done to ask for wedding bands, and commissioned works at that.

Once the movie was over Michael turned off the TV. He slowly pushed up, adjusting how he moved based on the pressure Travis’ weight came down on him. Michael carried Travis to bed and laid him down, then he went to finish cleaning up. When he came back to his room he found Travis had moved to the middle of the big bed and put himself in a weird sleeping position.

Michael decided not to undress Travis since he was wearing his pajamas. He didn’t bother to take off his own sleepwear that he only put on because Connor had been over. Getting into his usual side of the bed when he shared his bed with Travis he slipped under the covers and maneuvered Travis under them too.

“Wake up soon,” he whispered into Travis’ ear before closing his eyes to doze off. Thinking of Travis being with him from now own gave Michael a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt since he left home and then left Lupa’s pack.

 

Michael tried to move but it was hard to breathe. He felt like this before. Once a long time ago when he was young. It’d been the worst feeling in his life. His stomach churn. His eyes wouldn’t open and his head felt heavy.

He gasped for breath but his throat burned and felt dry. He didn’t make a noise, because he couldn’t show weakness. The last time he was like this Lupa had told him to conquer his weakness.

“Mike.” A voice that sounded distant. So far off. Michael couldn’t answer. “Mike. Hey, you okay?”

 _Don’t ask me that._ Michael couldn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer. The words stuck inside his throat.

“Michael, wake up. You’re scaring me.”

_Scaring you?_

“Dude, it’s past 9 o’clock, you’re always up early. It’s freaky when you’re sleeping this late.” He felt the voice shaking him. Michael didn’t want to move. He wanted to heal quickly. He wanted to get better quickly and be strong again.

Michael drowned out the voice but he could feel the hand on his chest and the other holding his hand. It felt like something he’s felt before. He didn’t know why.

When his eyes slowly open Michael groaned. He sat up with a headache and looked at the clock on his phone. It was 10:30 in the morning already.

“You’re awake!” he heard before being jumped on. Michael managed to catch Travis before crashing back onto the bed. “I thought you were sick!”

Michael smiled. “No. Not sick. Just catching up on my sleep.” Travis quickly reached over onto the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of water next to Michael’s phone. When Travis opened the water bottle for him Michael grabbed it but wouldn’t let Travis let go. He made Travis bring the bottle to his lips and feed it to him.

“Thank you.”

“Um… You’re welcome.” Travis was self-conscious again, his face heating up again, his eyes looking anywhere but him again. Why was he still so uncertain when they made an oath to the gods? Michael put the bottle on the nightstand and grabbed hold of Travis’ waist to hold him down against him.

It became increasingly obvious that Travis was sitting on top of Michael’s crotch. Something that bothered Travis it seemed. It made him overly self-conscious.

“Our wedding night…” Michael started to say gently.

“I know, I know!” Travis started to wave his hands violently in front of him trying to block his face from being seen. Michael just laughed as he caught Travis’ hands and held them against his chest. “It was ruined, I know…”

“I think it was pretty successive.” Michael held down his laughter watching Travis’ shocked and relieved face. His mouth was working but his voice was not. It looked like Travis wanted to ask him why he considered it successive. “Considering you didn’t get any flashbacks or nightmares cuddling with me.”

Travis sat up straighter. “Ah that…”

“What?”

“W-well…” Travis gulped. He looked nervous suddenly, peeking glances at Michael. It was almost like Travis had done something he knew was going to make Michael angry. He decided to wait patiently to see what exactly got Travis so riled up. “So, actually…”

“Go on…” he urged, putting his hands on Travis’ hips.

“So you see… I…”

“Hm?”

“I’m fine now!”

Michael wasn’t sure he understood so he didn’t say anything. He waited for Travis to clarify it for him.

“Right now. I’m fine.” Travis’ hands clenched and unclenched on the shirt Michael was wearing.

“Ah… you mean _that_ fine.” Michael flipped Travis onto the bed and maneuvered himself on top of Travis. Travis went shy again, but Michael lifted up Travis’ chin to get better access to kissing him. “Let’s test it then…” Michael locked their lips as he slipped his hand down to Travis’ jean covered crotch.


	23. The Idea of Love

Travis felt himself burn all over, not just because of Michael’s hands caressing every part of him either. He’d told Michael he wasn’t going to back away or have horrible black outs and flashbacks as though he was a woman who was telling her first-time lover she wasn’t on her period. _“Right now. I’m fine.”_ His own words rang in his ear and further embarrassed him.

Keeping his eyes closed he did his best to respond to Michael’s advances. Running his hands down those corded muscles and hot skin, kissing along Michael’s neck when it came close, running his hands to Michael’s shoulder blades. Travis felt his heart close to exploding. Michael was relentless, moving Travis closer and tangling their bodies even as there was no more room between them.

Travis moaned into another deep kiss with Michael, who for the first time seemed rather desperate. In the times before Michael had been very passionate, lustful and even a bit pushy and impatient, but he’d never felt like Michael was desperate for him. It was strange to realize this, because he could tell Michael had been trying to ease Travis slowly into the act and yet the usually disciplined man couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth off any bare part of Travis.

Before long Travis was completely stripped and Michael was down to his sweatpants being shimmied down his hips enough for his member to stick out. When Travis finally looked at it in the light he felt himself squeak. Was _that_ really Michael?

“Shit…” Michael muttered under his breath as he grabbed Travis’ chin and pulled him into a hard kiss. He was not sure if that was because Michael was feeling impatient, or because Michael knew Travis was having second thoughts after taking a peek. When he let Travis go from the kiss Michael nipped at Travis’ jawline. “Don’t be afraid.” Michael had notice. There wasn’t any doubt Michael probably had enough experience to have enough people react similarly to Michael’s presentation.

“I am _very_ afraid,” Travis admitted. He was still shock to see Michael’s size. He’s held it before in his hands. He’s sort of seen it before too, but this was the first time he actually looked at the erect member without shying away.

“It’ll fit.”

“I have no doubt you will make it fit,” Travis said weakly. His knees drew up together, as if he wanted to block Michael away from getting between his legs. It was something that happened by instinct, but Travis couldn’t help it. He had not exactly mentally prepare for Michael’s sized member going inside of _that_ part of him.

 “That too,” Michael softly chuckled into Travis’ ear. “But it’ll fit after,” Michael said as he kissed Travis’ earlobe and sniffed his hair.

Travis covered his face, feeling himself flush even more out of embarrassment. He’d never actually thought about it or pictured it even though he always knew Michael would take him.

“After what?”

“Trust me?”

“…Um…” Travis hesitated. If he had to be truthful, “At the moment… uh, not really, but if I have to…”

“You doubt me?”

“Not really…”

“But you do.”

Travis looked into those clear brown eyes. Wonderful dark eyes that were suddenly a golden amber-like brown. He saw it, the tiniest uncertainty that Travis didn’t want what they would do. That Travis did not want him.

A part of Travis was pained. Confident and strong Michael was actually hesitant and hurt by him. His core welled up, knowing he had to finally speak of the thoughts he’d been thinking Travis tried to find the courage.

It hadn’t been long since Travis could actually confirm that they were in some way partners even if not committed or exclusive partners. Travis could almost say they were just friends with benefits. However Travis had to be fair and tell Michael, because Michael was going into this so-called relationship with their so-called wedding vows wholeheartedly.

“I just can’t wrap my head around how it’s going to fit…” Travis mumbled honestly. “And it’s my first time.” He felt his pelvis clench. It was a weird feeling, like he really needed to go pee but Travis didn’t need to go pee. “And I just… are you sure you’re okay?” Travis knew it was a cheap shot. Travis was trying to find an excuse to stop what they were doing. The smallest part inside his heart kept creeping up and telling him if they went all the way, if he finally gave himself to Michael’s advances that the both of them would regret it. Another part would tell him to take the risk, to believe in a positive outcome. To believe in love.

It didn’t change the fact about how Travis felt this morning. Michael was always taking care of him. This morning when he couldn’t do anything but try to please Michael to wake up, to let him know what to do, to get up and be the stronger of them both revealed a pathetic truth about Travis. He relied completely on Michael carrying him as a burden.

Remembering this morning still struck him almost speechless into a panic. He woke up in the morning and found he was in bed with Michael. Then it got later and later into the morning and Michael didn’t wake up and he was very tense and still, and wouldn’t move or do anything. It scared him stiff that all he could do was stay by Michael’s side, worrying and self-hating for always relying on him and not even being self-reliant enough to care for Michael.

“I get the message,” Michael sighed. He moved to get out of bed, fixed his clothing and grabbed the clothes off the floor.

“What?”

Michael didn’t say anything. He grabbed a towel from on top of his drawer and informed Travis he was going to take a cold shower.

Travis sat up in bed with his hand in his lap as he thought on things. His head kept running and running, he wasn’t able to calm himself down or stop thinking at all. Was it right to have brought up his concern on Michael’s condition when they were in the middle of making out and possibly having sex? Or was it that Michael was sick and tired of always having to stop halfway? Maybe…

“It’s nothing like that,” Michael’s voice answered Travis’s thoughts.

“Whoa!” Travis leapt back from where he sat. Realizing quickly that Michael just heard him say his thoughts out loud AND that he was naked, Travis quickly rolled himself into Michael’s sheets. “I-I thought you were showering.” Now he was a pathetic, embarrassed worm of a mess. Travis couldn’t be more awkward.

“You looked sad,” Michael admitted. He walked over to Travis and sat on the bed again, facing Travis. “What makes you so insecure?” Michael asked him, looking into Travis’ eyes as if he was trying to find an answer there.

Travis shrugged. “I feel like…” Travis pursed his lips. He didn’t want to say the words. He’d resolved earlier to tell Michael so he should follow through. It was just that looking into those passionate eyes, looking for a reason or a chance to believe that Travis was true. The possibility that Travis was the conveniently the right person to decide to spend the rest of his life with was false.

“What?”

“Remember when this all started?” Travis asked.

“Before or after I found out your name wasn’t Connor Stoll?” Michael asked back. When Travis looked at his face the man’s countenance did not betray his intention. Michael was legitimately being serious about the fact he’d mistaken Travis to be the younger Stoll brother, Connor.

“During…”

Michael nodded, seeming to get the exact moment in his head that Travis was referencing. “What about it?” Michael asked.

“You said something, and in the back of my head it’s always bothered me. Especially because you just keep appearing and doing all these things, and I really can’t read any of it.” Travis felt like telling Michael got a huge load off his shoulders. It was very true that because of what has been on Travis’ mind that he couldn’t read any logical reason for why Michael would do what he has done with Travis. Not only Michael was mistaken in some way. Of course the best way to solve all of it was to talk to Michael about it.

Travis couldn’t stop as he heatedly told Michael about what has been bothering him. “I know we kinda just married. And we live in the same house. And sometimes we…” he felt his face heat up again. “We… you know.”

“No I don’t know.”

Travis smacked him with a punch to the arm. Michael just smiled at him and let him continue. “But I…” Travis took a breath for confidence, “I feel like we missed each other a long time ago.” 

* * *

 

Michael was mildly confused. They _missed_ each other? Travis didn’t mean… He could only assume exactly what Travis meant, especially with the specific event Travis had referenced earlier.

“Why would you think that?” Michael asked. How could Travis say they were in a fruitless relationship? How could the guy always proclaiming to love him say that they weren’t a match because how they got together was not the right opportunity? That they had missed their actual chance encounter, and that it wouldn’t work out because they were different now from their initial attraction to each other—Michael couldn’t accept it.

“Because…” Travis made himself as small as possible. He pulled up his knees and hugged them to his chest tightly. Not only did he look small but it really presented how lanky Travis must have been during his preteens as he awkwardly grew into his long limbs and gained muscles from his battle experience.

Finally Travis revealed the logic of his thoughts, the reasons why he was so insecure, the reason he held back, and the reason why he rejected Michael. “‘Because I might have said yes’—that means I missed my chance. You said that a year ago before you left. Basically it meant that _we_ missed the chance. You said it yourself. So now aren’t we just struggling to try to be together because we think we should try it out? Out of sentiment we’re floundering about.”

Michael felt weary again. His spiteful words from back then was coming to bite him in the nuts. Michael wanted to growl in frustration. Why was things always so difficult with the Stolls? In fact, the few times Travis was very well articulated was when he was passionately saying something to or against Michael. Like at this moment.

“You’re telling me that being together is wrong?” Michael asked Travis. With a quivering bottom lip, looking as if he was going to break down Travis only stared up at him. Those blue eyes glittered with the tears he held back. Added that Travis was wearing nothing made the imaginary very similar to an abandoned puppy whimpering away for someone to bring it home.

“Everything will just go wrong either way,” Travis breathed out with a hesitant breath. He could see how hard Travis tried to keep himself together. His hands holding onto the opposite wrist tightly, wringing them as if he couldn’t hold on to them tight enough. The earlier flush had cooled down and all that was left was Travis’ shivering body wrapped up in his bed sheets trying to hide his nudity. A naked body that Michael had earlier memorized.

“I see.” For the longest time Michael again felt hate burn in him, deep inside his stomach and his gut. Michael knew he didn’t hate Travis, but at the moment he was the object of Michael’s resentment. The very cause for it really. The only words he could muster up for Travis were not words of love, or caring, or gentle understanding. Harsh words came to him and all he could think to do was tell Travis, “I’m sorry you’ve suffered under my desires.” He knew it came off as resentful sarcasm, but they were also true. Because that was what it boiled down to in their current state of affairs. What Travis’ words meant was that everything happened because Michael had advanced on him. That Michael had cared for him.

That it was Michael’s own doing.

He grabbed his clothes and his shoes, forgoing his shower. He dressed silently but quickly, slipped on his jacket after putting on his combat boots. Then he grabbed his keys.

“I’ll be in New Rome.” Michael left without a goodbye, or a kiss, or a hug. It wasn’t like Travis wanted it from him anyway. Not really. What he wanted was the idea of Michael, not really him.


	24. Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a drawn picture of Michael Kahale updated in Chapter 1 of this story.

Michael got what felt like a permanent headache the moment he came back to New Rome. He was stuck staying in a shared boarding house those of the Venus bloodline. It was nothing similar to the cabins for Camp Half-Blood, and on an entirely different scale compared to the Aphrodite’s cabin and sibling-hood. The room he was in was shared with two other Venus demigods and one descendant. Michael found that the actions he had been so used to seeing and ignoring—his brethren frolicking, oversexualizing, and being flirtatious—were suddenly things that he couldn’t stand to be around.

There were days he would busy himself with paperwork in one of the open study areas in the library. There were nights he got up and went walking as to avoid the nightly activities the Venus house members had. Other times he visited his former _praetors_ with an excuse such as “catching up” or “keeping his promise” from when he left just to get away from the boarding house.

At first he knew he came here to cool himself off. If Travis didn’t want him then Michael needed to distance himself. It also served as a good way to see Ernest again who was currently in one of the Venus houses as sponsorship over him was still being discussed. Jason had followed Michael back to New Rome, and Michael had elected to stay until sponsorship for Ernest went underway.

Michael had no claim to Ernest. He only served as a letter or introductions, something Ernest didn’t need as he was sent from Lupa’s pack. Of course there was no doubt that Octavian’s family knew what Ernest meant to Michael. They would fight to sponsor him just to put Michael back under their thumb in some lame attempt to find the truth of Octavian’s glorious self-sacrifice.

While walking in the night he found an empty park and sat down on one of the benches. Michael knew that although he left with the excuse to help Jason handle sponsorship over Ernest—who showed great potential by being sent from Lupa’s pack in less than a year—the truth was glaringly obvious that he didn’t want to be close to Travis. Not with how things were said and done before he left. Michael had left knowing full well he couldn’t present himself as something Travis hadn’t expected, something Travis had not wanted.

“Hey Mike.” Michael felt his muscles tense. He hated that shortened version of his name. He especially hated it when someone in New Rome approached him using it this way. “I thought you were never coming back.” He didn’t even look as a heavily perfumed woman sat down next to him. Too close for propriety. He didn’t respond to her and stared straight ahead. “What? Forget me after you’ve been chasing after that little piece of ass?” She blew into his ear seductively contrast to her distasteful language. The act didn’t do anything to Michael. Even if it did, Michael wouldn’t show any interest. He had no interest in these things to begin with.

“Want to go somewhere?” she asked, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder. Michael felt his muscles tense even more out of repulsion. “It has been awhile. Maybe you’ve gotten tired of a man?”

Michael gritted his teeth, showing outwardly that none of her words or actions affected him. Instead he coolly stood up, letting her hand slip away. He had no reason to be with this woman. He no longer had _any_ connections to his former sponsoring family.

“Mike!” the woman snapped at him, standing on her too-tall high heel stilettos. Michael stopped from retreating but he didn’t turn towards her direction behind him. “How long do you think you can hold out? I heard you haven’t even broken in your new boy yet.”

Michael felt his mouth twitch. Travis was not his “boy”. Not unless he was the starry-eyed boy who fell in love with him, always staring at him as if he was some work beyond gods and word. Either way, Michael did not appreciate the way she called Travis.

He turned around to face her, glaring at her as a way to keep his anger in check. It was refreshing turning his threatening pose towards someone who was part of his former sponsoring family. The descendants of Apollo.

“I also heard you left on bad terms before you came here,” she huffed. The arrogant confidence annoyed Michael. Wanda Gold was a distant relative of Octavian and a descendant of Apollo. She used him as a boy-toy for as long as Michael could remember giving up on the idea of love. In other words very early. He’d let her, because it was un-Roman to go against one’s sponsoring family.

Being independent was different.

“You don’t want to be giving me those sexy angry glares,” Wanda warned, shaking her hair and letting loose those golden curls. They shined in the night as they did in the day. They were beautiful, but not on any standard that Michael cared about. Travis’ brown nearly toward a sandy blond shade was more appealing.

Michael continued to glare.

She clicked her tongue, those painted lips separating in a practice motion so her tongue flicks out just the slightest. Another practiced seduction mastered to perfection. Even her designer shaped body stood in a confident but sexy pose, meant to manipulate men’s lower half. Michael was used to it, until a year ago Michael had all her tricks memorized and catalogued in his head. Even if he’d been used by her as a boy-toy, it didn’t mean he had to let her manipulate him in every way just because she thought she had the perfect body any man would want. Perhaps when it first started Michael would have been led astray by that body, but Michael didn’t value physical attraction enough to let himself be.

“That cozy little house you call home is in Minneapolis, isn’t it?” she reminded him with a sneaky smile. A silent rage roared inside him. Minneapolis was Roman territory before the separation of the Romans and Greeks became clear to all demigods. “I wonder what would happen to that gangly little pet of yours if you continue to ignore my family.”

So this wasn’t just about Michael and her previous arrangement. An arrangement that obviously hadn’t been exclusive but she had thought was, because she wasn’t the only one in her family to use him. Running scenarios in his head Michael didn’t say anything and schooled his expression not to betray his feelings. He purposely stood very still to show an act of submission.

Wanda cleared her throat, jutting her chin just a little higher in that arrogant way Octavian used to do. She assumed she had the upper hand.

“I’m sure nothing will happen if you happily join me tonight and swear submission to my family again.”

Michael walked over to her. She seemed startled by his quick movements, but when he came in close she smiled. He could see it in her green eyes lighting up with laughter that she thought she had won. That she had successively threatened Michael into submission and back into her quarters. It was the opposite.

“If you wish to challenge me then do it,” Michael said in a low tone. He rarely ever spoke to her unless she required his services. Even then he never spoke unnecessarily, because he hated people like her who used him. It was different when Michael chose a willing partner, or mutually accepted someone’s advances. When he was blackmailed and threatened, when he had to—as Wanda had stated—“submit” himself Michael hated it. Hated it so much he could feel his soul going dark, could feel himself twist and bend into something not himself.

She physically stepped back, eyes wide with shock. Her heavy mascara and long eyelashes fluttered with disbelief.

“You really have changed haven’t you? Because of that dirty boy’s-” Michael interrupted her last words with a growl.

“I have made vows before the gods to be with Travis Stoll for all my years,” Michael snapped at her. He couldn’t contain the anger, the hate, the twisting and agonizing disfigurement of what he held so dear. His sense of identity was disappearing in the face of hatred towards Wanda’s entire family and what they’ve made him suffer through.

“Do not lie. There’s no way—you?” She laughed.

Michael nearly saw red, now being called a liar. It was like the words of rejection from Travis had smacked him in the face again. Michael tremored with a force of rage he could no longer contain but fought to.

“I will not be the only one you contend with if you threaten Travis Stoll’s wellbeing a second time,” Michael warned.

“You dare to-”

Michael cut her off again. “The Stolls are respected and leading models to Camp Half-Blood. Don’t even think that such a threat will not bring down misfortune on your perfect little family,” Michael scoffed at her. He stepped closer and grabbed her jaw, squeezing just a little harder than he watched the way her eyes finally turned desperate and dark as she realized he could easily kill her. He could see the exact moment she realized how many times he could have broken her neck if the chain that wasn’t his sponsorship and the threat of financially ruining his unaffiliated family in Hawaii hadn’t kept him tamed.

For a moment he contemplated whether or not to kill her now and rid the world of another corrupted individual. Then Travis’ face flashed into his mind. Images of his smile, his passionate face yelling at him desperately confused and trying to understand, images of Travis’ sleeping, his not-really-secretive stares when Michael started and ended his morning routine—all of it flashed into his mind. An entire flood of memories and emotions stormed into his head from somewhere inside him.

_“What’s your safety word, Travis?”_

_“I love you.”_

Michael tore away from Wanda Gold, moving away from her to an appropriate distance. “If you talk of Travis like he’s some warm little hole for me to use as I like again…” Michael snarled but those words bombarded him again: _“I love you.”_ He flashed his canines at her like a wolf, regressing to the time when he viciously ran with Lupa’s pack half wild, “I will make sure you will never be able to show your face in New Rome again,” Michael seethed. He would carry out the threat too, because he could. He also knew that threatening the woman was childish and did nothing to solve the real problem.

“You think you’re so righteous.”

“No,” Michael growled, trying to rein in the hate and the violence threatening to let loose in him. He had it under so much control until now he couldn’t understand why it was breaking. “Not righteous,” Michael said, watching as she now carefully studied him as a potential threat. That was a good look, her being wary. “Just not you.”

“You…” she seethed.

“I will do whatever I can to keep Ernest from your poisonous influence,” Michael stated. He watched as she registered that he acknowledged she was here to convince him not to get involved with Ernest’s sponsorship. “Even if I have to kneel, beg, and kiss the feet of five hundred to gain the power and money to keep Ernest from your family’s hands I will.”

“You think you’re someone special?”

“I’m just a Roman soldier,” Michael coolly said, collecting himself again finally. He was finally able to achieve the calm he had long ago mastered. “A soldier who watched their superior sacrifice himself for the greater good of the world against Gaea.” Michael knew the reason why Ernest was such a fuss despite barely having any connections. Octavian’s family still believed Michael killed him, that he let Octavian die and covered it up, or something else. Michael shot his words sharply before he left the park, “Don’t dishonor the dead with your pettiness and arrogance, _descendant._ ” He used his last word as a slur and he knew she took it as such as he walked away without looking back.

Michael wasn’t sure how much sleep he got after that encounter. He wanted a good night’s sleep in his own bed. It was strange to realize he was used to comfortable things. He had a giant bed, sheets, towels, a couch, and a coffee table. Michael had slowly accumulated such comforts in his life as he lived with Travis, taking into notes about Travis’ comforts. He’d bought the couch first on a whim because Travis’ night security monitoring job seemed harsh enough the man always stumbled in the hallway trying to get to his bed. Once, Travis had actually fallen asleep on the floor in the hallway. Michael’s big bed came with him when he moved in, because he had bought it while he was still in Salt Lake City. He bought it to replace the provided one in his old studio apartment, and a part of him would never give an answer to why he had such an impulse.

Michael got out of bed, accepting the reality that somewhere along the way his hardened behavior and habits had softened. Just as he was opened the door to leave the house he was confronted with another problem. The kissing couple standing in the hallway in front of his door. It was one of the other Venus children who shared the room with him, and Michael could see he’d planned to bring in a partner to bed tonight.

Boarding house rules weren’t always enforced. The strict regulations and laws of New Rome was enough that even those who had to enforce it sometimes were rather lenient.

Michael felt the pinch of impatience again. He couldn’t stand the casual dating and hookup. Perhaps it was because of how long he had to go to those Clubs undercover as the new guy, but Michael was so tired of seeing such meaningless relations.

“Mm… whoa, hey man!” the twenty-year-old theater performance major smiled at Michael as he pulled away from the girl in his arms. “Thought you’ll be out clubbing.”

Michael raised an eyebrow in question. He didn’t recall telling anyone anything about his habits or what he’s been up to. No one but the necessary people knew he was here to watch over Ernest’s entrance into New Rome.

“Well, you know words gets around,” the kid shrugs at Michael cheekily. The girl moaned a complaint before licking the boy’s earlobe and pecking kisses on his neck.

“Hey,” the girl turned to Michael next. She smiled and asked, “Are we going to have a threesome?” Michael sent a warning look the boy’s way not to get any ideas for the future. The paled look he got in response told him such an idea had just been thrown out the gutter. “I don’t mind with someone like you…”

Michael minded.

“And you won’t need a rub. I’m on the pill.”

The boy looked shocked but seemed to be considering the thought. Michael shoved the guy out of the way and walked out of the bedroom. He then decided before leaving to give the boy a proper warning.

“If she’s under the influence you can be charged under sexual assault,” Michael sighed out. He hated that he had to do this, because it was the right thing to do.

The girl heatedly denied his assumption that she was slightly drunk. The boy frowned, Michael was trying to recall his name. It was either Keith or Reith. One of the two. Probably Reith.

“Also, no matter what anyone says always use a condom,” Michael sternly warned him. He could see the excuse that the boy didn’t have any condoms—or possibly not enough. Michael did him a favor by then pointing out, “There’s a new box of condom in the nightstand over there.” He specifically pointed it out. Then he turned to the girl seeing as Reith was now considering the brand new box of unused condoms. Young boys and their numbers.

“You’re hot,” the girl smiled at him. She did seem under the influence, as she mostly looked like the reserved type. Perhaps she had a crush on Reith for some time and drank some liquid courage. “Wanna have a go?” she smiled at him. The innocent smile reminded Michael of Travis. The girl may or may not have a lot experience, but she was willing to do anything if it made Reith happy in some sense.

Michael bent down and whispered into her ear, “I think he’ll prefer you all to himself tonight.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and observed the way Reith’s contemplating eyes turned sharp and cool. Reith clearly considered the girl his before they have already done anything.

He didn’t see a need to but decided to whisper into Reith’s ear too. “Tight only means you suck at it.” Then he turned and left. If Travis had been there when he did that, Michael had a feeling Travis would be laughing for a solid five minutes.

As he was walking down the street Michael suddenly realized it had been awhile since he saw Travis’ smile. Not that he didn’t see it often, but that Travis hadn’t as lately. Michael couldn’t tell when it started. It just sort of slowly faded as they lived their day-to-day.


	25. My Choice is... "Stand" by Rascal Flatts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travis makes his choice... for a karaoke song?

It was almost a week and a half since Michael left. On the day that Michael did go Travis ran to Will’s apartment where Connor was crashing. Travis reluctantly came back to the house because Will had stated his apartment was too small for two Stolls and Alethea. So Connor came back with him. Will visited everyday with Alethea.

Nico came once when Will and Connor wasn’t around. It was earlier in the week when Travis came back. He said he would check up on Michael for him then disappeared into the shadow. Travis was glad Nico went to Camp Jupiter and New Rome to check up on Michael for him, because Travis could see that Nico wasn’t ready to see Will again and Will was doing fine without Nico at the moment.

When Travis finally told Connor and Will what happened exactly in detail Connor exploded. “Aren’t you supposed to be smarter?” Connor yelled. Travis got up from the couch and quickly moved closer to a door. Connor usually held in his anger, but when he exploded he started going. He was already cursing in various languages and threatening to strangle and maim Travis in Greek AND Latin.

“Just because he’s older doesn’t mean…” Will started to say with a heavy sigh of his own, his arms crossed to his chest, before trailing off. Will had gotten buffer and a little taller in the one year since he last saw Nico. Travis wouldn’t have really noticed because he saw Will often enough, but he had found a picture just this morning in Michael’s room of the three of them. Will had been a little scrawnier, more like a kid and less like a man. He wasn’t as scruffy looking either or angry.

Connor gritted his teeth and finally snapped in English, “You basically told the guy because he had a big dick you didn’t trust him or the fact that you two are meant to be together.”

“What the hell, I didn’t say that!” Travis stomped his foot and stood in defiance to Connor’s stubbornness.

Connor glared at Travis and took an angry step forward too. “You did!”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!”

“Didn’t!”

“Did!”

That went on for about a minute before Will shouted and got them both to stop. “Let’s follow the usual rules, guys,” Will grumbled. He fished out a quarter from his pocket. Travis called heads and Connor called tailed. When Will caught it he waved his hand to his right and said, “Connor.”

Connor took a deep breath and Travis braced himself for another bout of anger. “I told you to ask him why he chose you, not _tell_ the man you two were going to make a mistake by sleeping together. You need to get laid anyways you virgin!”

“Hey!” Travis pointed at Connor and looked at Will. “That was rude. It’s slander. I refuse to answer without an apology!” Travis demanded.

Will coolly thought it over. “You are a virgin, it’s a fact. Your response.” Will waved his hand over to Travis.

Giving up Travis went on to say, “I don’t think it’s any of your business to be telling me what to say to Michael. And you hate him anyways, always trying to piss him off. Why should I have to listen to what you want me to ask?”

Will kept his gaze on his watch, counting the time as he moved his hand to indicate Connor’s turn to speak.

“Obviously because you freak out a lot. I don’t have it as bad as you, and you’re too afraid to just try it out anyways. Don’t use that pervert’s actions as an excuse to lose someone who cares about you.”

Connor’s words struck somewhere in Travis. _An excuse_. Maybe he has been making excuses for himself.

“Travis.” Will waited for him to say something.

Travis looked at Connor pleading which his brother. When they were together, when they thought together they always found a solution. Travis didn’t know what to do. He pleaded, “Help me.”

Will put his hand down, he stopped looking at his watch. Connor put a hand on Travis’ shoulder and for a moment they all just stood in silence.

“Go to him,” Will said.

“What?”

“Go. To. Him.” Will looked serious. “Just so you know, I just got into the force and they’re bringing in this new guy that they had transferred a while back. Last name Kahale.” Will wasn’t joking. Will hasn’t cracked a joke in forever. Travis stood shocked. Will was going into the SPPD.

“Dude, Will’s right,” Connor said, his eyes shone with an understanding Travis did not have. Connor shook Travis a few times as if he was trying to get Travis to connect the dots. “You know he’s a child of Venus. Aphrodite, man. Sexy. Sensual. Lots of experience.” It sounded like Connor was listing reasons Travis should have done everything possible to keep the man. “He cooks. He does the chores. He has a nice figure you really like. He got married to you. Dude if you let him go back to his _home_ , in New Rome where everyone there knows him and likes him…” Connor’s voice trailed off and he looked away. He peeked at Travis as if he didn’t want to say it. “Trav, he might leave you.”

Travis felt himself shattered. Somewhere inside he heatedly and passionately denied that claim. Michael wouldn’t just… He wouldn’t… And another part of him broke, shattered, tore up at the very idea. Just a few days and Travis was freaking out, wondering how he should fix what he broke.

“I mean go to him because may be this time it’s your turn to be aggressive,” Will said, pushing Connor away and shooting him a dirty look. Travis swore Will was thickheaded so how was he suddenly an expert on this stuff? “Whether you’ve made a decision or not, go to Michael. Maybe when you get there you’ll have made a decision, yeah? Just look at him and follow your feelings. Just like how have always blurted everything out in your head.”

“Hey!” Travis felt a blush rise up to his cheeks. “That’s a low blow, Solace.”

Will smiled at him in a strangely awkward kind of way. Like Will really didn’t know how to respond to it. “Just go, look at him, and do what you’re good at. Talking without realizing you’re doing it out loud.” Will patted him on the shoulder to give him courage.

“But…”

“Bro, go. You ain’t gonna get there until almost dinner time anyways. Just think on the way,” Connor advised. It was a decision that Travis found hard to make. What if Michael scorned him, or didn’t want to see him? 

* * *

 

Michael felt a headache coming on again at the bar he was sitting in with Nico. He should be making a fuss over Nico drinking despite being underage, but it wasn’t the first time he’s seen Nico knock back a few. Plus he was wearing a suit of all things. A form fitting suit and his hair moussed back. Nico really looked like a gentleman that way, which was weird when thinking of the Ambassador as some haughty teenager who could kill with a look.

“How can you stand this?” Michael asked Nico, whispering as _My Heart Will Go On_ by Celine Dion was butchered to new levels of drunken mincemeat.

“Ever heard the Apollo cabin sing?” Nico asked. Michael vaguely recalled but shook his head. “You learn to drown it out.” Nico had seemed mildly comfortable when they came to dinner at the bar and sat down to realize it was karaoke night.

“I shouldn’t be surprise,” Michael decided to point out, “The Apollo house was the one that donated a new karaoke machine to the bar.” He pointed towards the sign that thanked the Apollo family.

“They were probably the ones who broke it,” Nico laughed.

“Hey! New guy on stage!” someone shouted as two guys pulled someone up onto the stage. Everyone cheered wildly, perhaps expecting to laugh at the new guy’s horrible singing. Of course Michael was bracing himself for another horrible song rendition.

Some time passed as Michael closed his eyes and tried to imagine something else to drown out the next torture. Finally a few notes play. It had a different mood to the other songs from before. Most of the people before had picked popular songs. Instead a voice weakly began the words of the song.

_“You feel like a candle… In a hurricane… Just like a picture in a broken frame…”_

The familiar tune blended into Michael’s thoughts. The singing wasn’t bad, and the lyrics struck a chord with him. He listened for half the song until he realized he could follow the lyrics to a song no one really knew in the bar.

He opened his eyes and searched the crowd to look for the singer on the stage. He was crowded on the stage with the drunks who had dragged him up there and now everyone was suddenly excited to hear him sing. Michael couldn’t pinpoint him.

Michael rushed into the crowd hearing the lyrics and the familiar voice singing. He knew this voice. Knew the singer, but he had to check, had to make sure it was really him.

_Cause when push comes to shove_

_You taste what you’re made off_

Travis sang that song when he was doing chores. He would put Rascall Flatts on repeat on his _i_ Home in the kitchen or the one in his room and would sing as he cleaned.

Travis had to be up on that stage. Michael desperately tried to get through the crowd, but this was the first time he’d ever had such a hard time to get people to move away. He knew the reason was because Travis’s buffer worked both ways. Just as he could slip in and out easily, he could draw in the attention of a crowd.

_You might bend ‘til you break_

_‘Cause it’s all you can take_

Michael made it to the steps of the stage. He climbed up and pulled back anyone in that crowd he knew wasn’t Travis.

_On your knees, you look up_

_Decide you’ve had enough_

Finally he got to the center, where Travis was singing crowded by a bunch of rather drunk idiots who loved his voice. Travis did have an amazing voice. He once said the reason his voice was tolerable was because Will’s voice was intolerable.

Then Travis saw him and for a moment he faltered but then continued to sing. He looked right at Michael and sang the lyrics into the mic.

_You get mad, you get strong_

_Wipe your hands, shake it off_

_Then you stand, then you stand…_

Michael grabbed Travis before the crowd could disperse entirely and revealed him with cheers. He quickly led Travis down the steps, blending into a crowd of drinkers at the bar. Without stopping Michael grabbed his coat and left the bar.

“M-Mike,” Travis stuttered behind him. “Mike-” Travis called to him. Michael didn’t answer as he pulled Travis towards somewhere—anywhere secluded. “Michael!”

He stopped. There weren’t too many people out and they were in the playground from yesterday. Michael turned to face Travis and he must have looked angry because Travis reeled back but couldn’t because Michael still had his hand.

“I won’t hurt you,” Michael said softly.

“I know,” Travis said, relaxing. They were both quiet for a bit waiting for the other to talk. “You’re mad I came…”

“No.”

“But you are mad.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you sang,” Michael admitted. Travis looked up at him with shock and misunderstanding. Michael stepped up, grabbing Travis’ neck with his free hand. He was gentle, making sure he was barely pressing his fingers on Travis’ throat. He whispered to Travis, “I don’t want anyone but me to hear it. Your voice.”

“I talk a lot,” Travis reminded him.

“I know.”

“You can’t really tell me to talk to no one.”

“Just don’t sing for them,” Michael said. “And don’t moan or grunt, or shout out in pleasure for them either.” Michael was being serious but Travis looked confused and shocked. It wasn’t like Michael wasn’t possessive. Some people just assumed he wasn’t because he never stuck around a partner long enough.

Travis was looking at Michael, staring at him without saying a word. Michael wondered what Travis was doing. Then those blue eyes suddenly had a familiar sheen to them. Travis smiled suddenly.

“What?” Michael gasped just before Travis beamed brightly and gave him a kiss. It was a chaste kiss with just barely a pressing of their lips, but a kiss regardless.

“I love you,” his starry-eyed boy confessed, “I will always love you. Thank you for never lying. For willing to marry me—even though we obviously can’t. Thank you for letting me love you and giving me memories I get to keep.” Michael had never felt such warmer words seep into his soul. Travis was confessing to him. Not yelling out or screaming his confession in a bout of exploded frustration and confusion, but really confessing. Travis was thanking him even and letting Michael know he understands that Michael wouldn’t say the words back.

“I just…” Travis face flushed now that he was becoming self-aware again, “I just wanted you to know…” Travis mumbled as he moved his hand to cover his face.

Michael gritted his teeth. He grabbed Travis by his chin and jaw and made him turn his head up to look at Michael. He kissed Travis then pulled away to look at Travis’ dazed expression.

It was now or never. Like the song, Michael knew it was time to stand up even as he was on his knees and barely holding up.

“I love you, too.”


	26. I Said "I Love You"

Wait. What?

“I said I love you, too,” Michael repeated.

Travis inwardly grimaced at the fact that he just spoke his thoughts out loud. Again.

“Is that okay?” Michael asked.

“Hold on. Let me borrow your phone,” Travis said, feeling panic rise. Michael gave him his phone without asking for any reasons.

While walking away Travis’ head felt like it was going to explode. Of all the times that his normally deviously creative mind could be working it was running haywire? Travis had NOT been expecting that response from Michael Kahale, legionnaire of Camp Jupiter and all that. No.

No. That was wrong. He hadn’t been expecting that from Michael Kahale, the man. The guy who cooks and cleans, and buys a damn sofa because Travis sometimes couldn’t make it to his bed. Michael Kahale, a police officer who has no known station (because he never told Travis, and he’d assumed Michael had long lost his job at the Salt Lake City Police Department).

Travis was walking into the playground and hid under the playground set, just under the slide. He could see from the corner of his eye that Michael stood waiting by the benches near the entrance of the playground at the exact spot he’d been standing when he told Travis those words.

“Connor…” Travis nearly whined when his younger brother answered.

“Travis? What happened? Don’t tell me you chickened out after Will made that speech and everything,” Connor said over the line. He sounded grumpy, and it was probably because he was still at Will’s apartment and Alethea was sleeping. He and Connor loved messing with Alethea. They liked kids in general. Making them cry seemed a bit evil, but also seeing their different expressions was a wonderful time.

“No something else,” Travis grumbled. He paused for a moment then asked suspiciously, “Am I only speakerphone?”

“Now you are,” Connor replied. He was gone for a moment and then Will greeted him, “Hey Trav.” Will almost sounded cheerfully like his old self. Almost. Being no-nonsense looked good on Will too, but he was better off as the cheerful guy.

Travis hurriedly filled them in on the situation. How he basically came to New Rome in a t-shirt and jeans, with nothing but the clothes on his back like some cliché romance movie hero. He told them how he got lost for fifteen minutes because he was panicking and had no idea where Michael was, and how a _certain_ acquaintance in town had texted him that they were getting dinner in a bar. So Travis was literally running around New Rome going into bars, getting kicked out by a few that were 21 and up and he had no ID on him. The worst part was that when Travis finally realized he could have asked his contact where they were having dinner his phone had died so he threw it into a water fountain.

“Get to the point!” Connor snapped.

“So, I gave up and some drunk idiots found me outside one of the bars. And I was going to go home or like maybe try and find SOMEONE we actually know here. But anyways the drunks made me do karaoke, and I figured why not cuz I couldn’t even find someone as huge as Michael anyways…” Travis was saying.

He heard Connor mumble, “You’re not that short either.” Connor was the shortest but none of them every talked about that.

“And anyways, Michael WAS there. And we came outside, and now we’re in this kiddy park…” Travis looked around once to make sure Michael was still where he left him. “And I did what Will told me to do.”

“You looked at him and did your romantic moment of all or nothing?” Connor asked in a bland tone.

“Yeah, that!”

Travis felt himself getting into a panic again. He’d relatively calmed down telling the entire story up to now. Now that he was back to the reason he called, Travis couldn’t settle down. He didn’t know what to do.

Travis peeked at Michael and saw how the man just stared at him patiently. He didn’t look worried at all.

“Did he not want you anymore?” Connor asked, sounding angry.

“No.”

“Then what?” Will asked.

Travis chewed on the bottom of his lip nervously. Taking a deep breath he whispered into the phone, “He said he loves me too.”

There was a long silence.

“Help,” he squeaked.

“WHAT ARE YOU CALLING US FOR?” Connor yelled into the phone. “Go lose your virginity you dumbass!”

“Connor that’s not…” Will was saying in the background.

“Shut up Mister-I’m-a-Police-Officer-Now-So-I-Can’t-Heal-You!” Connor snapped. Travis flinched, glad he wasn’t standing there with Will when Connor said it. Connor normally contained his emotions very well, but when he went off he really went off. He was like a Coke bottle, it fizzes sometimes but drop a Mentos in and watch all that fly out one little opening. “Travis why in ALL of Hades are you calling us about this NOW?”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!” Travis yelled. “You’re the one who was telling me what I should have said and done earlier! Tell me now!” He knew he was the older one. He was supposed to be more experienced, or at least had a better head on his shoulder but… Travis groaned out loud in pain. When it came to Michael everything was gone. He got completely drunk Spring Break last year because he couldn’t stand the stress and the idea that he and Michael could have had something. When he left Michael during the break when all was said and done Connor had to pick up the pieces too.

“Bro, the guy just told you that he loves you,” Connor sighed into the phone. Travis nodded, as if Connor could see him. He imagined Connor was doing the same thing, shaking his head. “You kiss him. You hug him. You hump him. I don’t really care. Don’t think about it, just go and do the first thing that pops into your head!”

“Wait but…”

“Call me tomorrow morning!” Connor yelled. “No! Call me at earliest in the afternoon.” Then Connor hung up and Travis was left crouching down and hugging his knees.

* * *

 

Michael watched Travis mumbling, yelling, snapping and then mumbling into the phone for a while. Then he was about demand a response from Travis when he noticed Travis crouched down to his knees growling to himself. His phone was still in his hand but he was obviously no longer on the phone.

Who was so important he had to call them _now_ of all times? If Michael had to venture a guess… he didn’t like any of the two that came up.

Travis abruptly stood up and walked over to Michael. “Thanks…” he whispered as he handed Michael’s phone back to him. He put his cell back into his pocket and kept his gaze on Travis. “And…” the man nervously began, “I know this isn’t…”

“It’s okay,” Michael interrupted. He was just a little impatient, but he watched the way Travis seemed uncertain. He wanted to say something but didn’t. The look of contemplation was on his face. Michael made the decision to stretch his patience and wait for Travis.

It felt like forever. “Can you tell me again?” Travis asked, looking into his eyes expectantly. For a moment Michael was lost in those searching eyes. “Michael?” Travis touched his forearm and he came back to reality.

His lips suddenly felt dry. He licked them and watched the way Travis’ eyes followed before darting back to his eyes.

“I love you.”

Travis looked at him still, no reaction. As if seeing the sunset for the first time, Travis’ eyes brightened. His starry-eyed boy stood before him again with an expression of pure joy bubbling inside him.

Michael said it again, “I love you,” and watched as Travis smile spread on his face. That smile. Michael remembered seeing that exact smile right after the war. He smiled, hugging Connor and Will and anyone around him. He cried out loud and laughed, shouting to the world nonsense that didn’t matter. The pure joy of having won, having survived, and seeing that his friends had too.

“Hey, you two!” Nico’s voice shouted from across the street. Michael turned to watch Nico cross the street and come over to them. "I’ve got some business to handle, here are the keys to my apartment. I trust you know where it is.” Nico dropped a key and keycard into Michael’s hand.

“What?” Travis said just as Nico walked past him.

“Frank and Hazel are waiting for me, so watch my apartment until I get back. There’s been some annoying idiots who won’t stop coming by so get rid of them for me,” Nico said as he was walking away down the street.

Michael wasn’t sure exactly if Nico just helped him or not. He did know that when he got there with Travis that Nico hadn’t been lying. Percy Jackson and Jason Grace were both sitting on the floor of the apartment playing on a PlayStation 4. Between both of them was two boxes of pizza, a six-pack of soda, and all the two were doing in the middle of that mess was grunting at each other.

“Super Smash Bros!” Travis hoorayed as he sat on the couch behind where Percy and Jason was sitting. He watched intently as the two battled it out without saying a word. Michael walked over and could see with the mess of junk food and pop cans on the floor what Nico meant.

“What are you two doing here?” Michael asked the two once the battle finished. Percy won with one life left.

“Waiting on Nico,” Jason answered.

“He went to see Frank and Hazel.”

“Gave up the slip again,” Percy groaned. “Get ready Jase, we’re going after him.”

“Stop ordering me around Perseus,” Jason grumbled as he got up. The two shook off the crumbs on their clothes, patted each other down and started gathering their wallet and keys. “Sorry to leave you two to it,” Jason waved back to them before he and Percy left.

“Aw, I wanted to play against them…” Travis pouted. “Wanna play?”

“No.”

Michael turned off the game and started cleaning up. Travis didn’t seem put down, because he seemed to have found Nico’s _i_ Home with the _i_ Pod still there. He played a playlist that was named “sleep” which Michael thought was really strange. It was a bunch of slow music, some love songs. There was even Celine Dion’s _“My Heart Will Go On”._  

“Boring…” Travis mumbled himself. He changed out of the playlist and Michael peeked him putting it on shuffle all songs as he walked by. When he threw away the trash and came back Travis was singing along to another Rascal Flatts song.

“Really,” Michael sighed. He pulled the _i_ Pod out of the jack and put it on the table. He grabbed Travis and kissed him. When he pulled back Travis looked dazed. Michael grabbed Travis and threw him over his shoulder as he walked them over into the hallway. He found the master bedroom but avoided it, finding the guest bedroom instead.

He tossed Travis onto the Queen-sized bed and closed the door. Taking off his shirt Michael climbed over the bed and carefully watched Travis. He didn’t seem afraid. He seemed determined actually, the way he started unbuttoning his shirt. Michael stopped him, pulled the shirts Travis was wearing off in one swoop and pressed his large hand on Travis’ chest.

“Please.”

Michael almost froze in shock. That had been Travis’ first safety word.

“Please…” Travis said again. “Please don’t stop.”

Michael remembered growling before he pressed himself on top of Travis. He let himself drown in the blur as he focused on feeling the emotions building between them. All he could remember coherently was how much he wanted to have a connection with Travis.


	27. Haze

Travis gasped loudly. Dear gods it hurt. It burned. It felt a lot like trying to pass out a piece of shit that wouldn’t go but needed to. Only worse. A lot worse. Travis wanted to cry but all he could do was kneel on all-fours in the middle of the bed while Michael stretched his ass with two fingers.

Clutching the soft sheets under him, Travis shut his eyes tight and tried to remember why he was in this situation. He really couldn’t think of any reason to be naked, sweating on top of someone’s guest bed, and suffering the symptoms of a bad stomach. Then Michael bent over him, his fingers rubbing in deeper and scissoring inside him. Travis made a pathetic noise somewhere between a groan of pain and a yelp. He felt sweat drip at his eyes like tears. Pressing his forehead onto the mattress Travis tried to breathe through his nose and exhale through his mouth slowly.

“That’s good Travis,” Michael’s husky voice spoke into his ear. Travis shivered, feeling his spine echo with anticipation from Michael’s voice. He clutched to the sheet under him and clenched his teeth. “Relax for me,” Michael’s soft voice whispered. Travis felt his back stretch like he was a cat. He heard Michael rummaging through the nightstand next to the bed with his free hand, his long arms and body stretching out to their left.

Travis turned his head and watched as Michael pulled out a long packet of condoms and a bottle. Michael moved from Travis’ back as he brought the items with him from the nightstand, kneeling behind Travis.

He tried to peek over his shoulders to see what Michael was doing. In that instance Michael pulled his fingers out and Travis bit into his own elbow to stop from yelping at the sharp pain.

“Sorry.”

Travis opened his eyes, looked at Michael as he laid on his side. He watched, mesmerized as Michael squeezed the open bottle’s contents into his hand. Michael noticed him staring and gave him a crooked smile.

“Lubricant.”

“Okay,” Travis responded to the one-word explanation. His eyes followed Michael’s hands as his lubed hands began to rub his cock. Michael’s large… Travis swallowed. It really was big.

“It’s not that big,” Michael promised with a smile.

“Well it looks big.”

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled anyways. As he ripped one of the condom packets out of the set left on the bed Michael looked at Travis.

“Want to try?” Michael asked with a heavy breath. Travis felt the lump in his throat tighten and expand. Sitting back on his legs Michael waved the unopened condom between his fingers. “Put it on me.” Travis could tell Michael was not commanding him, merely suggesting something he knew Travis would back out of doing.

Travis took the condom in his hand. He sat up from where he was lying and seated himself in front of Michael. Michael spread his knees a little wider so Travis had access to the gloriously lubed member.

“I thought you got tested,” Travis pointed out as he shakily tried to rip open the packet in his hand. He found it a lot harder to do than to stare at the erect uncut member pointing straight up at his face.

Michael’s big hands enveloped Travis’ own. Silently, Michael ripped open the packet for him. He guided Travis’ fingers to pull out the condom, helped him make sure which side of the condom was right too and made his fingers pinch the top of the condom after squeezing a bit of lube into the condom. Travis absently made the comment that Michael knew what he was doing.

“Is that a problem?” Michael asked, the tone of his voice barely changing as he guided Travis’ fingers to his protruding tip.

Travis lost his voice as Michael’s hands guided his hands to roll down the condom over his erection to the hilt. He felt his fingers shaking as Michael calmly told him to keep the tip of the condom pinched as he rolled the condom down the length.

“Good job,” Michael smiled and kissed Travis quickly.

Awkwardly, Travis without thinking said, “Thank you.” Then he felt his face flushed as he realized the stupidity of his response. Michael didn’t comment on it however.

Taking hold of Travis’ legs, Michael pulled Travis in. Michael lifted Travis and sat him on his thighs, jutting Travis’ half-erect cock against his own erect member. Michael wrapped Travis’ knees around his hips and told him to hold on as he guided Travis’ arms around those broad muscled shoulders.

He heard the cap of the lube bottle being flipped open and heard Michael squeeze out the contents. Then that sharp, burning pain again inside his ass. He grabbed on tight and bit back the pain. 

* * *

 

Michael tried not to react to the fact that Travis’ short nails were digging into the skin at his back. He also didn’t move an inch when Travis bit into his shoulder. He focused on prepping Travis’ entrance which he had brutally stretched earlier without lube. Then of course, realizing that Nico had planned ahead for them he checked the nightstand for the necessary items. He owed the man too much.

Travis barely made a sound despite the tenseness of his first penetrative experience. As the lube began to relax the inside muscles, and Travis slowly became used to the feel of two fingers, Michael gradually let himself enter that hazy mood again. Moving by instinct Michael scissor his fingers, heard the slightest gasp that slipped into a moan, and added another finger.

He moved his fingers in and out slowly. At first Travis was biting into his shoulder, but then after some time began making gasping noises. Travis started to jut back and forth with the movement of Michael’s fingers, seemingly unable to decide whether he wanted to rub against Michael’s erection and body or if he wanted Michael’s fingers to further explore his entrance.

“Mike…” Travis gasped into his ear. Brown hair brushing against his face as Travis arched his back into Michael’s fingers. “Michael…” Travis groaned. “Please…”

That one word brought Michael back to the night he had to pull himself away. Losing himself completely to his own sexual desires and the haze and blur he’s been avoiding collapsing into like a drug addict, Michael pulled his fingers out. Travis moaned out a whine but Michael captured his lips in his own.

Spreading Travis’ cheeks he shoved his member into Travis, letting that shocked and slightly pained gasp be muffled by his kiss. Michael waited awhile, holding Travis where he was as Michael kissed him into forgetting the pain. Unable to wait any longer when their kiss deepened, Michael shoved Travis down completely and let Travis shout. It wasn’t pleasure he heard, it was pain but Michael barely had the control to be gentle anymore.

“Mike…” Travis gasped as Michael began to pump his hips up. He was finally in Travis, and right now that was all that mattered. Michael kissed Travis’ neck and then his shoulder blade as he continued to pump into Travis.

“Mike…” Travis gasped. “Michael…” The short nails dug into his back. Travis’ mouth traced his shoulder, getting ready to bite down. Michael didn’t care, he kept going until he got even more frustrated.

Michael started moving Travis too. His hands were already spreading open Travis’ round globes at his entrance, and he clutched at them even more as he maneuvered the man on top of him. Travis’ knees pressed tighter around his hips as Michael pumped fast inside Travis and moved Travis at his pace.

The teeth on his shoulder traced his skin. Nails dug deeper and moved up and down with his face motion.

Even more frustrated Michael decided to modify their position. He grabbed one of Travis’ knees and lifted it up, placing Travis’ foot flat on the bed. The other knee he pulled in, wrapping the leg around his waist. Michael pushed forward, knowing the awkward position had Travis pulling away from him and arching his back as he supported Travis.

From there Michael really didn’t know what happened. He remembered kissing, sucking, continuously seeking release and not finding it. He remembered limbs wrapped around him, nails scratching, and Travis’ rough voice in his ear. He remembered Travis’ cry when he pressed them into the bed finally, and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall.

Then a sharp pain brought him back. He blinked a few times, wondering how it was that he had Travis on his stomach and one of the knees hooked by the bend of his arm. Travis was completely exposed and vulnerable in this position, and it allowed Michael to take him raw, hard, fast and brutally. He felt wetness where the teeth was still sank into his forearm. It wasn’t saliva, it felt too clear and warm. They were tears.

“M-Mike…” came the shuddering whispered cry when the teeth released his tattooed forearm. Michael felt a deep hatred against himself when he realized what had happened. “Michael…” Travis didn’t look at him, his eyes were shut tightly. “It hurts…”

Michael released the arm he was holding down and by succession released the knee in the crook of the same arm. Michael held onto the condom and slowly pulled out as to not cause any more pain. Travis stuffed his face into the mattress, hiding his tears, his hands clutching the wrinkled sheets evidence too how much he’d endured. Michael felt a hole being dug at the pit of his stomach.

When Michael finally pulled out he didn’t have to look as he threw away the empty condom. He hadn’t come. The sweat-drenched sheets told him that Travis had not either. Michael looked at the bite mark now overlapping a few of the tally marks on his forearm before pulling it away and sitting on his knees.

Just as Michael was about to apologize and remove himself from Travis’ presence, the other man turned around and stared up at Michael. Michael paused, staring at the numbers of hickeys covering the front of Travis’ body. Then Travis pushed himself up, his legs still spread open around Michael.

Touching Michael’s face, Travis seemed to peer into his eyes. “Are you back, Michael?” Travis asked in a quiet, quivering voice. There was no hatred or deep fear there.

Michael regretted letting himself fall into that haze, but he was glad he didn’t find his satisfaction while he was in it. It was a testament to Michael’s earlier confession. He really did love Travis, and taking the man in such a way couldn’t and wouldn’t satisfy him ever.

“I’m here,” Michael answered. Travis smiled and kissed him with bruised lips. “I’m here.” Michael pulled Travis in and hugged him tightly, desperately. Oh gods, how he would have regretted it so much if Travis had been afraid of his loss of control. He would have lost the first thing to be so true and pure in his life.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Travis smiled at him as they pulled away from the kiss. “Don’t look like that.” Travis put his forehead to Michael’s shoulder. “I love all of you, okay? Don’t dare doubt it. This is supposed to be proof of that, right?”

He almost laughed, imagining Travis pouting as he said the words. Michael let his hands find Travis’ and lace their fingers together. Like this was okay. Like this was enough. Just having Travis was enough. His starry-eyed lovesick-ed boy with the carefree smile who talks out loud to himself.

Gods, Michael prayed at that moment, please don’t take him from me.

“It’s good though,” Travis sighed against Michael’s shoulder. He lifted his head and smiled at Michael cheerfully. “Seeing you lose yourself is pretty refreshing.” Michael didn’t know what to say to that. “You know, I thought it’ll just be me like being crazy into it or something. Cuz you’re really good at it, I’m guessing. I mean, you’re fucking hot. So I was really afraid I might be really into it but that I wouldn’t be that good at it and you would be disappointed and regret it…”

Michael almost laughed. Only Travis Stoll could say something so ridiculous in thought and put Michael at ease. This perfectly awkward mischievous troublemaker who sings along to country and dances to jazz music. This man was his and he thanked the gods for the chances he received to be with him.

“Michael?”

“I love you,” he said, hugging Travis tight.

“I love you too, but your dick’s poking my ass.” Travis jiggled his butt trying to find a comfortable position on top of Michael’s lap.

“What, you thought that was it?”

Michael hid his smile into Travis’ shoulder as he kissed it lightly. Travis sat straight in silence until Michael traced his kisses back to Travis’ neck.

“I thought…” Travis said when Michael finally pulled away. He took the chance to push Travis back onto the bed and lay him there. Travis seemed too stun to realize Michael was already preparing to enter him again. “Well…” he then flushed as he wrung his hands together and tried to think of how to say what he wanted to say. “I just thought because…”

“This time, I’m going to make you melt,” Michael smiled as he held himself over Travis. Travis stared wide-eyed up at him. He traced his thumb over Travis’ parted lips. There were red and bruised from kissing too much earlier, and dry too but Michael wasn’t ready to let him get out of the bed yet. “After, I’m going to make you scream my name and cry for more.” He found the second time entering, bare, was easier than before. He could tell from the way that Travis winced that the man’s butt hurt, but he could also tell as he slowly moved that the pleasure rippling through Travis made him forget such pain.

Travis groaned, clutching the sheets at his side. Michael grabbed both hands and pressed them each at the side of Travis’ head. He intertwined their fingers and stared into Travis’ eyes as he moved slowly. He continued to move in an even pace as he stared into those hesitant eyes. Eyes that clearly reflected him back, eyes that completely revealed Travis’ soul and heart to him.

When he changed his pattern Travis seemed perplexed for a second. Then making an adorably dissatisfied face subconsciously began to move. Michael teased him by not changing his pace despite changing his pattern of movement. He also knew Travis wanted him to reach further in, to rub that spot that drove one crazy. He didn’t want that yet.

He lowered himself down and kissed Travis. He made it a long kiss without using his tongue, just teasing him by pulling away and coming back for more. Travis surrender was evident when his mouth parted open waiting for his kiss. Michael loved that Travis did that out of instinct.

Letting go of one hand he began to caressed Travis’ body. He saw the way Travis’ stomach concaved when his fingers splayed out on it. Travis arched off the bed towards Michael, and knew what the man’s body wanted.

“Touch…” Travis gasped. “There…” Travis pleaded.

Michael purposefully began to play with Travis’ nipples. Although the man moaned the look of frustration was on his face. “Here?” Michael asked, teasing him. He bent down and took one bud into his mouth. He sucked on it and licked it without parting his lips from the skin. He felt the rippled shiver echo through Travis’ entire body, and how his knees instinctively try to come together as Travis’ heated erection bumped into his stomach.

“Not… there…”

“Oh?” Michael breathed a cold breast against the nipple he’d just covered with his own saliva. Travis shuddered again. “Where?”

“There…”

Michael took the other nipple into his mouth, moving his hand from there to Travis’ back. He lifted Travis’ back up a little higher to give him better access to go deeper. Travis gasped in a deep breath when Michael pushed in further and bit the bud.

“Here?” Michael asked.

“No…”

“Where?”

“There…”

“Tell me…” Michael whispered against Travis’ neck as he kissed his way there.

“Ah…” came the first sound when Travis pushed down and forced Michael in a little deeper. Suddenly he saw the glint in those pleasure fogged eyes. Travis just realized he could seek pleasure himself.

Michael didn’t fight him. He let Travis dig his heels into the mattress and push towards Michael, taking his member to the hilt again in one slow motion. Travis gasped as he did this. His free hand wrapped around his own cock and began to move in motion between Michael’s measured pace and his own unmeasured ones.

Travis picked up the pace, pushing in at first then also pulling out. Michael loved that Travis just let himself seek after that pleasure, not even realizing how he touched himself, or the hungry face he was making as he sought it.

Deciding he shouldn’t let Travis be in suspense any longer, Michael changed pace and rhythm. Travis was surprised by this and stopped moving his hips and let himself simply feel Michael’s movements as he played with himself. Michael let go of Travis’ other hand and pulled up one of Travis’ knees, hooking it over his shoulder. He went in a little deeper, reaching a little further into Travis.

He tested with a few paced pumps and watched how Travis groaned and pumped his own fist in unison. Then paused a moment and watched Travis, in his own world, touch his erection with one hand. Rubbing the tip with his palm and sliding down with the pre-cum in hand around his length. Michael loved that in all this Travis’ pleasure was so pure and unpracticed.

He moved again, at a slow place with unpredictable rhythm. Travis’ half-lidded eyes staring at him and seeing him, but focusing on reaching that peak. It was a face of seduction. Travis didn’t even realize how seduction it was that the tip of his tongue would lick his dried lips, or that while one of his hands worked on his cock the other had his nipple between two fingers as he played with his own chest.

Michael picked up the pace, watching Travis melt into pleasure and lust. He threw his head back gasping for breath. Michael grabbed his hand and removed it from his chest, wrapping the arm around his neck. He bent and kissed the abandoned nipple but moved upwards to scrap his teeth against the man’s collarbone.

“Mike…” Travis gasped. “Michael…”

He pulled Travis up as he sat up. He wrapped his arms around Travis to support the man as he pumped up. Travis groaned, his eyes shut with a look of frustration again. Michael was surprised Travis’ long legs could bend and hook against his shoulder in this sitting position, but it wasn’t all that important. Flexibility had not been something he’d guessed Travis had.

Michael began lifting Travis up, hearing the man moan out a whine. He then dropped Travis back down as he pumped up, seeing the way the man became undone by that. Michael picked up the pace as he began repeating the act, guiding Travis up and down on his cock.

The moment he knew that Travis was at the edge and was merely holding on out of stubbornness, he bent his head to Travis’ ear. “Come for me, starry eyes,” he rasped and Travis became completely undone.


	28. Maybe "Yes"

Michael stood silently under the cold spray of the shower. He’s always thought it some kind of gift he’d received from his mother that he could control when he wanted to have sex or not on most occasions. He never thought that being with Travis would render him a sexually insatiable teen. Even when he'd been a teenager his sexual drive was controllable, and he never actively sought out a bed partner unless he was ordered to perform or had a passing whim.

His mind wandered away from his deep though. Instead he observed the room he was in. Nico di Angelo’s bathroom was made out of white marble and silver lining the tiles and walls. The bathtub and the shower were separated. Michael noted the sheer size of the bathroom. Nico had called this his apartment, but it seemed like both Jason Grace and Percy Jackson were very used to coming here as though this was not a temporary home. There had been a rumor that Nico di Angelo and Hazel Levesque had many living arrangements not just throughout the country but throughout the world. These were not comforts anyone took care to have if they did not stay here often.

Michael stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the sink to search the drawers for a razor. He found one that was neatly put back into its opened plastic packaging at the bottom drawer. He found the shaving cream that came with it. Michael examined the little dollop of shaving cream in his palm to make sure it was still good to use. Having come to a conclusion that the cream didn't expire he started his shaving process.

His eyes glanced at the closed bathroom door reflected in the mirror. Across the hall Travis was sleeping exhausted with throbbing hips and a pain Michael probably couldn’t really describe. He’d known it was Travis’ first time yesterday night but Michael hadn’t been able to stop himself. After watching Travis hit his peak the first time as they were joined he’d been unable to stop. He didn’t lose himself in the pleasure as he’d feared after coming out of his haze. He just couldn’t stop and Travis was completely responsive.

At first Travis had been a little awkward. He didn’t quite know what to do if he had time to focus, but once he lost himself in pleasure Michael couldn’t stop him. Travis would instinctively move the way he wanted to reach that point, and it made Michael burn with desire. He remembered every position, every sound, the rippling of those tight muscles against his own, and those long flexible limbs refusing to be separated from him for a minute…

Michael blinked himself back to reality, catching himself before he accidentally cut himself with the razor. He finished shaving and cleaned off his face and neck. Running his fingers against his smooth skin Michael found himself missing his beard. Ernest had never enjoyed his beard, but he had stubbornly grown it so he wouldn’t be easily recognized when he did shave. He ran his hand through his long hair still debating whether or not he should get it cut. He wondered what Travis would like and peered at the closed bathroom door again.

With a calming breath Michael finally made his way back to Nico’s guest room he and Travis was now occupying. He had to wonder exactly why Nico’s guest bedroom had condoms and lube in one of the nightstands, but he also knew he shouldn’t be asking. As judgmental as it sounded because he was wondering, Michael didn’t actually quite care. He would have done the same in the past, simply because one could never know exactly when they needed it--or if their guests did.

Michael stopped in his tracks when he came to the bed. He had just been approaching the empty side of the bed when he saw the sleeping Travis. He was sleeping partially on his stomach and partially on his side. His arms wrapped up cuddling the blanket into a bunch against his chest. Travis was deep in sleep, likely exhausted from their long night of activity. Still, Michael stood speechless. He didn’t quite know why.

([Travis Stoll sleeping](http://leafthoj.deviantart.com/art/Travis-Stoll-sleeping-564690314?ga_submit_new=10%253A1444177755))

The word came to him in a whisper and he immediately understood the meaning. He loved Travis and that’s why seeing him safe, at peace, and content spoke volumes to Michael. It was a base instinct that he wanted to provide for Travis, to give him every comfort and no worries. It wasn’t that he was undermining Travis as a man or that he wanted Travis to bend to his will and authority. In clean and simple terms, he loved Travis and he was happy to give Travis somewhere to return to. He had to wonder if at any point his own mother ever felt this feeling. This pure unconditional love towards someone else, wanting to be the place someone returned to and knowing that they knew it too.

 

Michael was smiling. Travis had woke up sensing someone staring at him. With the greatest fear in the world that Jason and Percy had found out what he and Michael had been up to Travis had tried to calmly open his eyes. Unexpectedly he saw Michael staring down at him where he stood by the bed smiling. Michael was smiling.

Travis had never seen Michael smile that way before. So soft and warm. It was like Michael was looking at Travis and seeing happiness. It sounded too good to be true for Travis to really have thought that, but how Michael looked was how Travis felt the felt times he watched Michael in his sleep.

His smile fell into a slight frown as Michael approached him. He climbed onto the bed and slid his hand down Travis’ clothed body. “How are you feeling?” Michael asked in a tender voice. Travis felt himself wince a little, unused to such emotion in Michael’s voice.

“Confused,” Travis mumbled. “You put pajamas on me?” Travis asked. Michael stared into his eyes for a moment searching for Travis’ intent. He broke into a slow smile and laughed. “Do you have a thing about dressing up your lovers?”

Michael chuckled, reached down and kissed Travis’ cheek. “I thing, Travis Stoll,” Michael whispered into his ear, “I could easily get used to covering up my husband after pleasuring him.” Travis felt his face burn. His hand moved to hide his face in it but Michael caught his hand in his.

Drawing Travis’ hand to his lips Michael kissed his knuckles tenderly before turning his dark eyes back on Travis. Travis felt like his heart was about to explode. Michael just said “husband” and that he liked having sex with Travis. A year ago Travis wouldn’t have even imagined having sex with Michael, much less a kiss.

Michael stood up out of bed again, leaving the towel that had been wrapped around his waist on the bed. Travis gaped as Michael’s well-defined body strode towards the folded clothes left on top of the desk in the room. He watched Michael pull on his pants, and knew how deliberately Michael slowly pulled the waistline up around his hips before turning to face Travis. Openly without thought of what anyone would have thought, Travis eyed the way Michael zipped up his jeans and left it unbuttoned.

“Besides,” Michael drew his attention back to his face. Oh gods how did this man exist? He almost didn’t register Michael saying, “Can’t exactly let unexpected guests walking in and seeing you in your full glory.” Michael shot him a grin before slipping on his shirt.

Travis rolled his eyes. He collapsed back onto his stomach and stuffed half his pace into the fluffy pillow. It wasn’t like no one wouldn’t be able to guess considering the pain in Travis’ hips and his ass. Not to mention his knees felt like jelly each time he tried to put pressure on them.

“I was not the one who suggested you do three rounds on your knees,” Michael laughed. He sat down at the desk and bent to put on his shoes.

Travis groaned loudly. “You could have pretended I didn’t say anything!” Travis yelled as he rolled onto his back. He ignored the immediately echo of pain as he threw one of the pillows at Michael.

Catching the pillow without looking up Michael chuckled. “You know I enjoy it when you talk out loud.” He made his way to Travis, sitting on the bedside and bending to kiss Travis on the lips.

“I don’t like it.”

“The great prince of mischief Travis Stoll would never reveal any important secrets because of such a habit,” Michael teased. Travis officially hated this man. How in Hades did he exist again?

“It’s a deadly flaw.”

Michael suddenly turned stern. “Do not joke about such things Travis.” Travis rolled his eyes. “It is endearing not fatal.” Michael got back up and walked towards the bedroom door. He turned around with that confident smile of his. Travis was mesmerized by that smile. It was that annoyingly confident smile of his that he rarely ever used but would get him anything. Travis would probably rob a bank for Michael if he smiled at him like that while he asked Travis to do it.

Michael disappeared right after saying, “And I wouldn’t let you die because of something so cute.” Travis immediately threw the other pillow at the doorway into the hall, missing Michael as he deftly avoided it without so much as flinching.

Stuffing his head into the comfortable bed without any pillows Travis fumed. He really did not like that Michael knew all his weaknesses. The man could easily exploit him, especially in their newfound relationship and… Travis smacked his face once with both hands against his cheeks. There was no point feeling like a little school girl thinking about the fact that their relationship has deepened sexually. Considering how it went yesterday night and how many times Travis assumed Michael and he were extremely compatible.

Food. Travis forced himself out of bed and wobbled and winced his way out of the guest bedroom into the hallway towards the kitchen. Michael was at the sink when he Travis’s knees let out and he caught himself against the headrest of the couch in the living room.

As if Michael was springing towards a pregnant woman he dropped the soaping pan and sponge and ran for Travis. Wrapped an arm around Travis’ tender hips and waist Michael grumbled something about how he would’ve brought him breakfast. Travis rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to be treated like a woman or for that matter the mother of Michael’s unborn child. In fact that idea pissed him off a little.

“We’ll talk about our unborn children another day,” Michael assured. He sounded so serious Travis sat at the dining table in shock. Of course then he looked at Michael walking away from him and caught the wink he gave Travis before turning completely away and reaching the sink. Oh, Travis was going to get him back for that.

Michael brought him a plate of food and orange juice. “Bon appétit,” Michael said in perfect fluent French, before kissing Travis’ cheek and whispering something else into his ear.

Travis gulped down his heart stuck in his throat. He smiled up at Michael and replied in kind, “Je t’aime.” He watched Michael’s dark eyes smile back before he pulled away to get his own breakfast.

The rest of the morning they spoke in French. Now at then Michael would whisper something in Hawaiian. Travis suspected it was a curse of some kind, or that Michael was merely trying to expel his anger somehow in a language he knew Travis had yet to study. Connor would have probably glared at Michael the moment Michael’s French came out.

They both stopped what they were doing, now with cups of coffee between their hands instead of breakfast. Their eyes turned to the front door opening and held their breath. Who would show up could be any number of people and Travis wasn’t sure exactly how to explain why _he_ was in New Rome.

“I didn’t think even Frank was going to help Nico run from us,” Jason sighed out loud as he walked in behind Percy.

Percy added, “I told you it’s dangerous to let him stay around Reyna too long.” Percy looked forward, Jason following his gaze, and the two paused as they came up to Michael and Travis sitting across the table from each other. “You two still here?”

“We were instructed to kick you two out,” Michael responded two seconds after. Travis kicked him under the table but Michael didn’t even flinch. He just bent his head to drink his coffee.

“Looks like Nico won’t be home then,” came Percy’s conclusion as he turned around immediately and started to push Jason out the front door. “You two feel free to leave whenever.”

“Think they figured us out?” Michael asked over his coffee cup. Travis was about to answer but glared at Michael when he realized Michael was joking. He kicked the man in the shin again but still no reaction.

“Did you want them to figure _you_ out,” Travis seethed at him angrily. “Were you going to confirm that we were sleeping together,” he whispered heatedly.

Michael coolly smiled. “I might have said yes.”

Travis was thinking it but he had a feeling with that smirk on Michael’s face that Travis had said it out loud again.

“Why in the Fates do you even exist?”

 


	29. In the Custody Battle

Michael sighed out as he walked the mall strip with Travis, “You know I’m not against us staying in.” Travis laughed, saying something sarcastic about how Michael not being able to stay in bed unless for his bare minimum of five hours sleep. Michael couldn’t very well deny the fact that he was used to moving around but still. “I figured being the son of a god of language, you of all people would be able to read between the lines.” Michael hid his smile as he walked a few steps ahead and left Travis to sputter after him.

Travis chased after him, rushing ahead and turning around to stop Michael in his tracks. The traffic around them continued on, some choosing to ignore them while others choosing to stare at them completely. His breath puffing in the cold air Travis looked into Michael’s eyes, clasping Michael’s shoulders as if to keep him in place. Michael gave Travis a smile and Travis glared at him immediately.

“Don’t give me that drop-dead gorgeous smile Michael Kahale,” Travis grumbled angrily. Michael continued to smile. It wasn’t exactly like Michael was using it because he wanted the effect it gave Travis to work—although that was a nice bonus. “Mike…” Travis groaned weakly. Michael smiled anyways. “Just tell me what you meant.”

Michael shrugged as he kept his gaze sideways. “You know what I meant.” He surveyed the area around them slowly. Instinct told him someone was watching. He was used to it from his younger years. Someone was always watching but his service was done so no one should be interested in his movements around New Rome.

“Just so you know, Michael,” Travis was indignantly grumbling at him, “My father is mainly known as the god of travel and commerce.”

“I know.” Michael could read at least two people lingering in the crowd who was actually spying on him. One person hidden in the alley twenty paces away. A few yards behind him standing at a stall was another man.

Looking upset, his brown brows furrowing, Travis twisted around and briskly walked away. Michael stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and walked after Travis in a leisurely pace. He knew he was making Travis angry, he also knew that everything was very new and different with them now. Michael wanted the things he wanted and needed, and he simply took possession of it. It was something different to what Travis is used to, always playing around, stealing things, or not stealing things. Travis lived in a world of technicalities where Michael lived in a universe of things defined at face value.

Travis stopped walking after they passed a few blocks. He waited for Michael to catch up before he leaned close to Michael. Whispering he asked, “Why are we being followed?”

Michael leaned closer to make it look like they were going to kiss. “Not sure.” He kissed Travis then took his hand and walked off with him.

“Wait, you don’t?” Travis asked as he followed Michael into a department store. “Aren’t they following us because of you?”

“I don’t know why.” Michael left it as is, and strangely enough so did Travis. Normally Travis was the kind to bug Michael about all the details. There have been days where Travis would ask for some of Michael’s monster fighting experiences in New Rome. Not like there was many to begin with. Camp Jupiter did have missions and other quests involving fighting monsters or detainment and such things. There wasn’t that much of a high risk factor. Not the way that Travis was used to as a Greek demigod. Yet Travis would always excitedly ask questions about every little detail about Michael’s old stories.

They watched the door from behind a beam. Two people, a man and a woman walked in. Michael recognized the woman. She was a descendant of Apollo. It would make sense that the Apollo family was watching his every move. However they didn’t start getting traced until they entered the shopping district. That meant that even the Apollo family was afraid of what Nico di Angelo could bring down on them for walking into his territory. Impressive.

“You know them?” Travis whispered next to him when Michael retreated back behind the beam. Michael didn’t want to answer or explain that because of his former connection as well as instigating what was basically a custody battle over Ernest that he basically had no privacy in his life. The Apollo family have been spying—or at least keeping tabs—on him since the moment he left New Rome.

”Wanda’s lackey.” Michael then paused, tightening his grip on Travis. He could feel the tension in their silence. Michael hadn’t told Travis about Wanda Gold. As the tension became heavier it became more apparent how uncomfortable Travis was feeling. Michael never really told Travis anything about his life before he went to Salt Lake City. Nothing but that one confession about his first love interest.

“You’ll be fine,” Travis then said with strength in his conviction. Michael was going to turn to ask him why when Travis’ interlocked fingers tightened against his own. Squeezing Michael’s hand tightly Travis turned and kissed him. Pulling away Travis reminded Michael, “I’m your buffer.” Michael couldn’t help but smile at that. “Don’t say I never saved you.”

“My hero.” Michael feigned clasping at his heart with his free hand and wooing. Travis just snapped at him with his teeth, then pulled Michael along. He didn’t mind following Travis. Just as his eyes secretly followed Travis all these years, now Michael would rush after him.

They made it out the department store’s door. They were back on the streets and walking through the crowd nearly unnoticed. Michael kept himself a pace behind Travis, their hands hanging in the gap between still lock in a lover’s hold. It was breathtaking. There were no words to describe how Michael saw Travis right now. His back seemed infinitely more masculine. Stronger. His movements more fluid and confident. Not that Travis wasn’t impressively manly before now, but it was like his entire essence had heightened to a whole new level.

Michael had only seen this once when he coincidentally went out on a run at the same time as Travis. If he could see Travis’ face right now he could confirm it, but he didn’t need to. The bold way Travis navigated through the crowd, neither stopping nor hesitating as if he knew New Rome like the back of his hand told Michael all he needed to know. Travis was in his zone.

It was like watching his praetors Frank or Reyna take charge of the legionnaires. They were meant to be in that position—to lead. The same as now, Travis was in his element. Navigating, playing tricks, getting away, stealing, all those things were Travis’ forte. The part of him that has always innately been there. It was what he was blessed with.

“We’re here.” Travis had brought them to the secluded park. It was the middle of the day so it was strange that no one was there. This was where he came to meet to Wanda, and also where he was when he professed his feelings to Travis.

“They will find us here,” Michael stated.

“That’s what I want.”

“Why?”

Not that Michael was against it. Travis, unlike Connor, has cooled his head in the years since they were teenagers. He wouldn’t have brought them here just to confront Wanda’s family.

“Who are they?” Travis asked him.

Michael sighed. There was no other choice. “Octavian’s family.” He could see the smothering look in Travis’ eyes. The disapproval, and yet the unwavering declaration in them still stood. _“Michael is mine.”_ Michael continued to explain. “I… told you about her—my first.” Travis slowly nodded, and he could tell from that sharp and steadfast look in Travis’ eyes that his man was already making connections. “It was right after my relationship with her ended that was sponsored by the Apollo family. Octavian was also at Camp so I served him more or less. Not just him.”

Travis’s gaze turned into a cold glare. “You mean you were a gigolo specifically for their family.” Hatred oozed out of Travis’ voice. “Glorified sex toy.”

“More or less.” Michael explained the rest, about how Ernest’s situation. He explained the battle for Ernest’s sponsorship and how it was still underway. Travis immediately began to formulate an understanding of why they were being followed or targeted. Michael also explained that Wanda had been a major character in requesting his services before he left New Rome. She would do anything to get back the toy she felt had been taken from her.

“So I just need to make it clear to this witch…” Travis grinned mischievously. Michael immediately called him off. "What? You have feelings for her or something?" Travis squinted his eyes at Michael in scrutiny. Michael would have scoffed back if not for the fact that he knew how Travis really felt. He wouldn't want any part of Travis to belong to someone else. He wanted all of Travis. A part of him appreciated that Travis felt the same way he did--the need to completely and overwhelming dominate all aspect of his partner.

"She doesn't look like it but she would slice out your throat before you even blinked," Michael said between clenched teeth. Wanda Gold, despite her overly glamorous appearance did have her way with a weapon. He didn't like to admit it but he has seen very few who was as deft with a dagger as Wanda was.

"You're not usually so..." Travis mumbled to himself but squinted his eyes some more at Michael. "The big bad wolf is afraid of some over glorified descendant?" Travos sounded suspicious as if he didn't believe Michael.

He knew Travis was trying to bait him for more information. "She is not someone you just threaten."

"You threatened her though," Travis pointed out. Michael glared, he didn't mention threatening her. "Come on Mike, it's obvious."

"Don't call me that." Michael felt a chill run up his spine. He has never felt more unnerved than hearing Travis call him that then and there.

Travis stepped back from Michael. He felt it, their intertwined hands stretching and thinning away. It was like their connection was straining and before long it would snap apart. Michael tightened his hold on Travis' hand.

"Why do you hate being called that?" Travis asked, his voice melancholic.

Michael sighed out loud. "Because that's what Octavian called me. That's what his family called me." Michael fought back the images of servicing them. It wasn't exactly against his will, but he'd also known what would have happened to his rank if he hadn't been there. The only good thing that came out of being in service to the Apollo family had been the improvement of his bed skills and less hardship.

“It’s also what _I_ call you,” Travis pointed out. Michael looked into Travis’ eyes, finding he was suddenly breathing easier. The tension in his shoulders disappear. Yeah, it was. Travis called him ‘Mike’ from time to time too. “I will take care of this,” Travis stated. Michael smiled and then watched as Travis’ hardened look turned soft.

“You’re NOT supposed to do that,” Travis groaned, butting his head on Michael’s shoulder. Michael chuckled. Only Travis would turn mushy at a time like this. “What kind of smile is that? It’s like you just won the world or something.”

Michael didn’t say it but inside his head. _“Because you are the world to me.”_

 

Travis rarely felt this kind of feeling. It was the same when he heard about the Romans invading into Camp Half-Blood. There was a cold rage building and festering at the pit of his stomach. Like all the evilest, coldest, darkest things in Tartarus. Yet he wasn’t in a rage. He was sound of mind. It scared him but he could care less. The only question in his mind was whether or not this was how Nico di Angelo felt when he was also royally pissed off.

Then they approached. A woman dressed in a slim skirt dress and high heel boots came with two men behind her. They all had that look. Gold hair and blue eyes. Travis stood up from the bench and took three steps forward, holding his hand out to stop Michael from going in farther than at his side.

“You can’t run from us, you know,” one of the men said.

“I’m a son of Hermes. Running’s in my DNA,” Travis pointed out. He stared at the woman. She did seem like the well-brought up beauty that she was said to be. “Now could you guys all do me the favor and leave my husband alone?”

“Did you just call him your husband?” the other man nearly shouted.

“What? You can fuck a guy but you can’t marry him?” Travis asked in a cool-tempered tone. For some reason he wasn’t irritated or in any way felt like he wanted to draw back.

“Michael couldn’t fuck you until he married you?” the woman asked. Her prettily painted lips turned into a smirking smile. Travis knew exactly what she wanted to say.

“How we express our love has nothing to do with you,” Travis pointed out. “In fact you’re being a little overwhelming and rude trying to butt into our lives. How hung up can you be over your ex?”

That really got her going. Wanda Gold started screaming at him. She especially went with insulting things as to how Michael was nothing but a toy and couldn’t be called an ex-anything. Travis let all her words soaked in but he could see her true face behind all the cosmetics and sexy clothing.

He cut her short by simply saying, “So you’re a child then.”

“What did you just say?” she shrieked.

“Wanda, calm down,” one of the men whispered. The two looked ready to back away. Travis knew then that they weren’t there as her backup, they were there to make sure she contained herself. Her true face was showing.

“You said Michael’s not an ex, he’s a toy. Only a child throws away a toy and then cries over it.” Travis watched her lose it. Her hand moved but Travis barely saw where she pulled out her butterfly knife.

Just as she threw the knife Travis almost missed the chance to dodge. Michael had been right. If he hadn’t been warned of her skills he wouldn’t even have known to dodge. Travis grinned as he straightened up and faced her again. From somewhere on her barely dressed body she pulled out another butterfly knife.

“Hey now, miss,” Travis laughed as he taunted her. He bent his knees and focused on her. “Didn’t you know?” Travis grinned at her. He was used to taunting people, but she made it easy. Arrogant and short-tempered. She reminded him of the way of Percy had described Octavian. “I’m the one Michael Kahale chose.” Travis smiled as she threw her knife.

Travis rushed at the attack, dodging the first knife. Luck helped him dodge the second. Instinct had him picking himself off the ground before the third one hit him. Travis burst forward and caught the fourth knife then grabbed Wanda and brought her own blade to her throat.

“You-”

Travis felt elated. He was never really amazing at battle. “I will tear your throat out the next time any of you come near my mate.” Travis traced her blade across her neck gently, careful not to slice the skin. He could just kill her now but that wouldn’t really help the major problem.

“Greek scum,” she spat at him and swung the blade in her hand. Travis moved without thinking, blocking her blade with the one in his hand.

Pushing her towards her men Travis held his stance. “Roman slut.” She watched her fester in rage and bolt at him. Travis found it easier to read her swings and to dodge her knifes.

When they were at a deadlock, knife against knife, Wanda laughed at him. “Me, the slut? Your so called husband is the one who spent his entire service fucking every hole presented to him.” Travis could see what she was trying to do. She wanted the advantage by trying to play on his emotions, but she miscalculated something.

“Do you know the difference between a slut and a prostitute?” Travis asked. Wanda locked eyes with him and it was clear she was trying to decipher his meaning. “Prostitutes do it for a reason.” He overwhelmed her strength and pushed her back. “And this time…” Travis felt the darkness at his pit grappling at him. “I’m not playing. You insult Michael one more time, so much as take another step forward, and I will cut you to pieces.”

“You? Cut me?” Wanda laughed. She took a step forward. Overconfidence.

Their second round was another dagger fight, and Travis found it even easier to handle her. Travis found his opportunity and took it. He swung his knife at her breasts and she dodged by jumping back but Travis still managed to cut her dress. Travis advanced again and sliced again before she could regain her stance. The more she dodged and evaded the more Travis cut up her dress.

She let out a shriek as she fell backwards and into the arms of her two fellows behind her. Then she glared from Travis to Michael. “Mike you’re just going to let this Greek do whatever he wants on our land?” she snapped.

 

Michael hadn’t moved an inch since he stepped up next to Travis. He had watched the conversation in silence and observed the strange calm and coolness that Travis had. He’s seen that calmness before in battles. It was a warrior’s focus. Not entire hate and not entirely anger or rage. It was a step further from being in the zone for Travis.

Then he watched Travis use his wit and his mischievousness manipulate Wanda. He saw how far Travis went, not even knowing himself. There were lines and limits that Travis never crossed no matter what. He was flaunting.

Yes, it was an amazing feat to see Wanda lose in a knife fight. It was even more elating knowing Travis was the one winning. Even more so what Travis claimed him to be— _mate_ , he’d said. Strange how such a simple, animalistic word made sense. It fit. But Michael didn’t entire agree with how Travis toyed with her by cutting at her dress, by taunting her to lose her balance and her cool. Then Michael realized this was Travis, and if he really thought about it this would be how Travis would get revenge. Quiet and calculated—but it felt different.

When Wanda finally in desperation implored for his Roman pride Michael could see Travis begin to come to his senses. The dullness in Travis’ eyes faded and uncertainty plagued him. Travis was probably fretting over the fact that Michael had seen another part of him he didn’t want Michael to see. Michael could care less about that however. After all this was the man known for his lies but who has mostly always told the truth to Michael. This was Travis who trusted him. Michael loved all of Travis and he wanted all of Travis, just like Travis claimed all that was Michael as his.

“I can live with breaking my ties to New Rome,” Michael proclaimed in a clear and unwavering voice. “I can live with you and all your family as my enemy. I can live with you not believing in Octavian’s heroism—because you all know him best. He’s just like you. I can live with and without many things, but I will not live without Travis Stoll.” He watched Wanda go into a rage. She pushed forward to attack but then shrieked and immediately sat down on her knees and covered herself as her dress fell apart.

Travis laughed and it wasn’t that cool laugh of his from earlier. It was _his_ laugh. Cheerful, delighted—and oh so playful. “You know what they say about us Stolls,” Travis grinned as he tried to calm his laughter. Travis held the knife in his hand as if he was ready to stab her. Instead he opened his fingers and left the butterfly knife fall heavy into the dirt, stabbing the ground in front of him. “We don’t play fair.”

Michael stepped up and grabbed Travis’ hand. “I will get Ernest, and you and your family can keep tabs on me all you want. I will never return to your service or sponsorship. I won’t be controlled.”

“We will relay your message,” one of the mess said as the other took off his jacket and wrapped it around Wanda. “Both of your message,” the man turned to Travis. Michael smiled and then pulled Travis along.

As they were walking holding hands Michael said in the quiet, “I love you, you know.” It was awhile before he heard the quiet and shy “yea” behind him. There he was, his bashful starry-eyed boy. _His_.


	30. 8-3-1

_I love you._ The words kept resonating in his heart, like they needed to be said but for the words just was not enough. Not enough to express what Michael felt.

“What is this?” Michael asked as he stepped onto the bus with a white pegasus painted on its sides. He’d followed Travis as the man jumped onto the bus and pull his palm on the scanner. Michael stared at the screen reader as the scanner belched out that Travis had 20 rides left.

“Still going through the stories?” Travis greeted the driver. Michael stared down at the bronze scanner. He wondered what kind of contraception it was and exactly how it was made. Even finding someone to construct his collapsible javelin had been pure luck.

“One story per ride,” the man grumbled. Then his eyebrows raised when he saw Michael. “Hey, I don’t pick up their kind.” He glared at Michael in a way he was very familiar with. Loathing. Disdain. Resentment.

“Kind?” Travis repeated as he turned to look at Michael. “What do you me Bell?”

_Bell?_

The hairs at the back of his head started to rise. Michael could feel that there was a connection, and he knew Travis just gave the man a nickname. A man in dirty blue jeans on a wheelchair driving a painted school bus with a strange scanner who Travis seemed to know very well, Michael didn’t want to imagine the relationship they had. He knew he was imagining the worst case be he knew Travis was a cautious person.

“You’re her child,” the man snarled. “Get off.”

“No, he’s Venus’ child.”

“You think I care whether he’s Roman or Greek?” the man snapped at Travis. “I don’t care what story you give me I won’t take him anywhere!”

Michael’s patience wasn’t very formidable to begin with. He never intended to return to New Rome or Camp Jupiter. Travis had told him there was a way to get back quickly so he’d followed but this man was making it difficult. Michael wanted to return to where he could be with Travis.

“Hey, old man,” Michael growled. He pressed Travis out of the way and grabbed the crippled man by the collar of his shirt and yanked him off his wheelchair. “Even without looking I can tell what your value is, so if you’ve got something to say why don’t we go outside and settle this.” Michael was in the process of dragging the flailing man out of the bus when Travis stepped in trying to stop him.

“Hey can’t leave. Stop!”

Normally Michael would pay attention to what Travis wanted. Normally. However, Michael couldn’t stand another second not being able to be with Travis. Being told their relationship would be fruitless. Being judged as though they were an abomination not just for being two men who vowed to share their lives together but because they chose a path where they couldn’t leave children. He was tired of this, he was tired of being anywhere but where he wanted to be. All he wanted to be was to be with Travis and to protect the ones he cared about. He didn’t care about politics or so-called families and obligations. He would give up his entire future to be able to stay with Travis.

“Michael your hand!” he recalled Travis shouting in distress. Michael finally managed to look back. While trying to push through Travis and the old man struggling out of the bus that his palm was on the scanner.

Michael could tell what the machine was doing. It was invading his heart. That’s what it was there for. That was how this man got paid, but Michael wasn’t going to allow this thing to take from him. Michael couldn’t remove his hand so he clenched his hand around the scanner and squeezed with his fingers until he felt it give way.

“What are you doing?” the man shouted. “Let go!” Michael let his anger overtake him as he continued to squeeze down on the machine.

“You don’t deserve to know what’s in my heart you monster,” Michael growled as he squeezed the machine. He knew Travis was trying to stop him, he also knew the old man was tied to this machine but he couldn’t. Finally his fingers connected and his hand became a fist around the material. If it was really celestial bronze the metal wouldn’t have bent for him. The machine changed shape under his hand.

The scanner turned into a red eye. Where his palm had been turned into a gaping mouth with teeth sunk into his skin. He could feel the tongue digging into his veins and bloodstream. Michael tightened his fist, feeling the monster’s probe hastening to return to its own body.

“A monster?”

Michael tossed the man in his other hand back towards the wheelchair as he pulled his other hand away from the monster. He looked at his palm where it had invaded but there was no trace left behind.

“Bellerophon,” the rounded gaping mouth moaned. “That demigod… he… he…” Its big one eye glistened with tears.

“What is this?” Michael glared down at it. He reached for his javelin in his holster but waited. “Bellerophon?”

“Are you sure it’s a monster?” Travis asked calmly as he stared at it. Michael glared down at it again. It was a red one-eye tiny monster stuck to the bus with a round mouth of sharp teeth and slithering tongue. How could it not be a monster? “I mean, most monsters try to kill us you know. Besides, it has one eye.”

“Leave him alone!” Bellerophon snapped, slapping Travis away and pushing Michael down the steps. Michael managed the stay in the bus as the cripple held himself up on his trembling legs.

“It hurts Bellerophon…”

Michael stalked up the steps. “You have better have a good explanation!” Michael held out a hand to keep Travis from interfering. He pushed the man named Bellerophon onto his wheelchair and glared at the monster. “What the hell is that thing?”

“You can call him my brother,” the man grumbled. He resettled himself into his wheelchair. “He’s a sort of cyclops but because of what his mother is he’s not exactly one either. He’s what you’ll call an abomination of abominations.” Bellerophon glared at Michael then. “I told you I don’t service your kind. Now leave.”

He was about to force the man to talk but then someone shouted, “Stop!”

Michael felt himself volley out of the bus when he crashed into the bus’s door. He landed on the empty sidewalk where Travis had called for the _Pegasi Line_. Michael didn’t have time to recollect what was happening when Travis had jumped on him and pushed Michael down onto the cement. He could see the rage in Travis’ eyes, as well as the confusion and desperation.

“Maybe it’s because I’m stupid or slow about these kind of things,” Travis gritted his teeth as he spoke the words with tears brimming at his eyes. Michael felt a part of himself bleeding inside. He was the one that caused Travis to carry such an expression. “I really hate your face right now!”

Every part of Michael froze in place. He stared at Travis sitting on top of him glaring down and huffing out his breaths heavily. The man fought his tears back but the expression on his face was so distraught Michael didn’t know what to do or say. Then something in his heart released and laughter engulfed him. It was a crack of light in the darkness. Michael couldn’t stop himself.

“Come here.” While laughing Michael reached up and grabbed Travis’s face, pulling him towards Michael. He kissed Travis and rubbed his thumbs under Travis’ eyes. Travis tried to turn his face away to hide the tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. “Are you saying you will stop loving me if my face is no longer to your liking?” Michael smiled as Travis stared at him with bewilderment. “Am I only worth that much?”

Travis punched him one more time but Michael smiled back. “What…” Travis grumbled. Tears trickled down and Michael was pained by it but at the same time he was happy. “What do you think my feelings for you all these years were for?” Travis shouted at him. “I… I have loved you since the moment I saw you. These feelings…” Travis then grabbed at Michael’s shoulders. “What about you? If… If I was a girl… If I didn’t love you… If I didn’t have this face… would you still…”

Michael kissed him before he said another word. “I was born to love,” Michael whispered. “I raised to survive, and I was forced to obey.” Michael washed away Travis’s tears. He smiled at Travis who went from frustrated sadness to glaring at him with tears in those beautiful eyes. “But Travis, you taught me what it means to be free.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Travis sniffed. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I’m pretty sure that was some poetic line that’s meant to make me forgive you.”

Michael chuckled. “Forgive me?” Travis nodded defiantly. Michael hugged Travis and then shifted to standing up. “Thank you.” He put Travis down on his feet then went back into the bus.

Bellerophon glared at him.

“I don’t know what you have against my mother,” Michael said. He stare down at the monster scanner. “But all I have to do is give you a story enough to convince you to take me where I belong, right?” Michael put his palm over the monster’s mouth. “Then take it. The story of being Venus’s son.” Michael closed his eyes and opened up the memories he guarded in his heart—all but one. He gave all the memories of being Mike Kahale of Camp Jupiter to the monster.

“… Payment for 831…” Michael overhead as he managed to come back from his blackout. He blinked a couple of times before looking around. He sat up with a headache and then was shocked to see he was riding on the bus. Then he looked out the window.

“Surprised?” Travis twisted around from the bus seat in front of him and smiled. “I don’t know what you did but you sure gave him a lot of stories.”

Michael stared out the window. The sky. It was strange to look at the sky from a bus. It wasn’t like being on an airplane or riding a pegasus at Camp Half-Blood.

With the sudden descent Michael fought back a groan. This was definitely a rollercoaster unhinged. No doubt Travis enjoyed this kind of thing too. The bus squeaked to a sudden stop at the bus stop closest to the house. Travis then got up and walked to the front. Michael decided to follow at a slower pace.

“Hey, Bell,” Travis said as he stood at the front. He pointed to the little monster scanner. “If this little guy is your little brother, does that make him Percy’s brother too?” Travis asked. Michael almost laughed. Percy Jackson already claimed a cyclops as his brother, now he was going to claim an abomination of abominations?

Bellerophon stared at Travis confused. “Who?” he asked.

“Percy, man. Percy. Percy Jackson? Son of Poseidon. Your half-brother!” Travis said impatiently. “Come on, man. Don’t tell me you didn’t even keep tabs on the times.”

Bellerophon said disinterestedly, “I only care about the stories I receive. Exactly what kind of current news am I supposed to get when I am not welcome anywhere?” The man had an iPad in his lap as he swiped through videos in his data. The videos, Michael realized, were like movie images of people’s memories. Their stories.

“Hey, hey, you have Will’s story of the Battle of Manhattan right?” Travis said excitedly. Michael coughed to hide his chuckle when Travis leaned over and unceremoniously swiped through the videos. He played one in particular then fast forward the video to a shot of Percy. “Look, here. This kid. He’s your brother.”

“Should I care?”

“Care? He’s your brother!” Travis snapped. “How you gonna care for some kid you call an abomination’s abomination but not Percy? He’s a demigod too!” Travis started shaking Bellerophon roughly.

“It’s because he’s a demigod.” Bellerophon pushed Travis away. “Get off. This is your stop.”

Travis turned around to say one more thing. “I bet he’ll be really glad to see you. The last child of Poseidon he met tried to kill him.”

“Most children of Poseidon try to kill demigods,” Bellerophon grumbled with a roll of his eyes. Michael stifled a smile away and began to push Travis out the bus. “You, Venus kid!” Bellerophon called out to him.

He turned around as Travis grumbled and kicked the snow at the bus. “Want to settle something?” Michael asked, glancing at the scanner monster.

“831 rides,” Bellerophon said. “I’m sure you don’t plan to use my services in the future.”

“No.”

Bellerophon handed him an envelope then. “In compensation for the 830 rides.” Michael took the envelope. “I looked at one of the stories before departing.” Bellerophon had turned away from him but it looked like he was tense. Michael began to descend the steps. “I’m Greek, and I’ve been on this earth for a long time and I’ll be here long after you have left the world. Even though I am confined here it does not mean I do not have some kind of influence.”

Not really understanding what he meant Michael got off the bus and stared at the enveloped. He put it into his pocket and walked away with Travis. Michael stared at the hand where the scanner hand invaded him for his memories. There really wasn’t any traces.

When they came inside through the front door Travis walked into the living room and sat down quietly. It wasn’t always the best when Travis was quiet. Michael sighed. Too much has happened and not enough time has passed for them to settle this. Michael carefully treaded his way towards Travis. The man sat on the couch with one of the pillows hugged closely to his chest and half his face buried into it.

Michael decided not to waste time with the usual coaxing. “Travis,” he called to the man as he reached him. Hold out his hand he said, “Come to bed.” Travis glared up at him with a pouting face. That defiant look in his eyes made Michael’s blood rush.

Without a response whatsoever from Travis, Michael decided to leave it be. He pulled off his shirt and threw it on the floor. Travis looked taken back, flushing by the mere sight of Michael half-naked. That innocent reaction needed to be rectified one of these days. Michael turned away from Travis and walked through the hall into the bathroom.

If Travis didn’t want him then Michael could hold on. He would hold on until Travis begged. And if the day they became crippled old men came and Travis still didn’t want him, then Michael wouldn’t have been the first Venus child to have gone celibate the rest of his long life.

Standing under the hot spray of the shower Michael thought back on the words he recalled the scanner monster saying. “8-3-1,” he lipped. Eight letters. Three words. One meaning. Michael closed his eyes and felt his muscles slowly loosen under the heat. _He said, “I hate you.”_


	31. Eight Letters, Three Words, One Meaning

Travis woke up in his own bed. It had been a week and some days since they came back from New Rome. Michael didn’t approach him. Not that anything was different, but Michael didn’t try to have any contact with Travis more than necessary. It wasn’t too far off from how they were in the past, but at the same time it felt different. Thinking maybe Michael was waiting to see if Travis would initiate, he tried kissing Michael on the couch yesterday night.

Remembering what happened made Travis want to bury himself in snow. Michael had kissed him back but Travis could tell Michael didn’t want to respond. After, Michael had said he was tired and took a shower before going to bed right away. Travis didn’t know what was going but even he knew what that meant.

He had worked hard for the weekend but it was apparent that Michael wasn’t even thinking about it. Travis managed to get the weekend off, he even planned to go to Nico’s secretly today to work out the most important part of his plan. He’d hinted in the occasional conversations Michael was willing to have with him lately about being free this weekend. Despite being someone who was usually very observant Michael was impossibly dense. It was disheartening.

Stepping out of the bathroom after his shower Travis noticed Michael coming out of his own room that morning with a towel in hand. Travis felt his face flush. Maybe Michael was tired of him getting embarrassed easily and blushing all that time. Perhaps Michael wanted him to be bold? But then Travis had tried yesterday and Michael hadn’t responded desirably.

His so-called husband walked to the bathroom and stared him up and down appraisingly. Travis had the urge to punch Michael in the face but it was the unemotional look in his eyes that stopped Travis. That gaze told Travis that Michael didn’t feel a single thing looking at him.

“You dress in the bathroom,” Michael said in a tone that meant he was not disappointed but was asking why he had expected something more out of Travis. What in the Tartarus was up his hole? Not like it had been any of Michael’s business until recently, but Travis always dressed in the bathroom. No one was as comfortable was Michael was in the nude.

Michael had gone into the bathroom and closed the door before Travis could recollect himself from those words. Angrily he shouted at the bathroom door, “Well pardon me oh all important husband for not being stimulating enough!” Travis turned around and stomped back into his room grumbling. What did he care if Michael wanted to have sex with him again or not? It wasn’t like Travis had any obligation to give birth. If Michael wanted kids he should find a female, preferably someone who would cut off Michael’s balls if he so much as tried that arrogant BS again.

“Hey mate, I’m coming in!” a muffled voice behind the door announced. The door flew open and a naked Michael walked in. Travis glared at him angrily. _Mate?_ Michael strode over and grabbed Travis’ face. The infuriating man then said very matter-of-factly, “You are very stimulating.” He stared into Travis’ eyes for a moment, nodded with satisfaction and turned back around to leave as gracefully and confidently as he’d entered.

Gods give him the power to beat the confounding man into the Underworld. Or give him the ability to understand exactly what went on in Michael’s head. Travis wanted to strangle Michael, because it felt like the man thought he’d “done his job” by telling Travis he was stimulating.

Travis wasn’t in a good mood to begin with when he finally got to Will’s place. The guy was moving out soon so most of his things were packed and gone. All he needed left was Travis’ help to take out some of the furniture into the rented trunk. When he walked in Will was sitting on his couch, hands together in his lap and staring into the ceiling. That was Will’s solemn expression of mediation and deep thought. An expression Will rarely if ever had except during trying times.

Plopping down next to his friend Travis sighed heavily. “What’s up Will? Breaking down?”

“No,” Will said. He slowly looked at Travis then. “I got a partner.”

“Yea, a senior office or whatever right?” Travis waved his hand, dismissing the statement. Will had mentioned before that new cops usually got partnered with more experienced cops. “What? You think he’s in the closet or something?”

“What does that matter?” Will asked, confused. Then he cleared his throat and said, “No, it’s more like…”

“He’s ugly?”

“No, I guess you would say he’s handsome,” Will said quietly next. Travis knew something was up the way Will was timidly saying all this and calmly, but he was still angry with Michael and didn’t really care.

“He’s a homophobe?”

“No, no you would say he’s open-minded.” Will was now staring intently at the carpet.

“So he’s open-minded and he’s handsome, what’s wrong with the old guy?” Travis sighed out. Why was Will so bothered by his new partner anyways if he hasn’t even met the man?

“No, he’s not old exactly either.”

“So he’s young, handsome and open-minded,” Travis groaned out with annoyance now. “Marry him then.”

“He’s married, I guess.”

“What, there’s a ring?”

“Not yet.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I just do.”

Travis really wasn’t getting it but at least Will was annoyingly peaking Travis’ interest in the matter. “He’s young, handsome, open-minded and married. Sounds about perfect there.”

Will looked Travis in the eyes then. “Yeah, you would say he’s perfect.”

“Okay…” Travis not felt like Will was actually trying to tell him something. “So what’s wrong about him?”

Will then took a calm and deep breath. “He wasn’t who I was expecting.”

“What are you going on about, Will?” Travis finally asked. “I mean, the guy’s handsome and young. He’s open-minded and he’s married so he’s probably not some douche with a penchant for beating up people. You might not have expected him but you just said he’s perfect so I don’t get why you’re bothered at all.” Travis was already frustrated and angry and handling Will now was making it difficult too. His friend used to be serious but also fun-loving and humorous. Now Will was mostly just serious and responsible. He and Connor went through a lot picking up the pieces of whatever was left of Will a year ago, but this was just ridiculous if he had to peel layers off the man.

“Travis.” Will grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye again. Very clearly enunciating every word he said, “You would say he’s perfect.” Travis felt it creeping up on him in the back of his mind. Will’s eyes sternly and unwaveringly metaphorically nodded at him as if to answer an unspoken exclamation. “You,” he insisted.

The man Will was talking about was married, handsome, and young but not exactly their age because he was already in the force longer than Will. He was open-minded meaning he would be considerate towards different lifestyles and circumstances. He was also someone Will wasn’t expecting.

“He also said he was coming to help me move today.” Will leaned back on the couch and stared again at the ceiling. “So we’re meeting today.”

_Can’t be…_

“Hello,” a deep, resonating voice said.

Travis told himself not to look. To keep his eyes down and not confirm what he already knew. He really shouldn’t.

When Travis finally looked up, his heart was pounding wildly, he saw Will’s partner. A naturally bronze tan colored skin tone, dark hair neatly and recently cut short and styled, dark eyes staring at Travis in an assessing way, and standing at the entrance of Will’s soon-to-be former home like someone’s arrogant husband. Well, if Michael even considered himself Travis’ husband at all.

Travis found himself pushing up onto his feet. He felt himself heat up out of anger, a dark emotion drilling deep into the pit of his stomach like a hysterical wife. That feeling alone made Travis hate what was happening, how he felt, how he and Michael have been lately. He normally wasn’t like this but then again it was because of Michael that Travis was nothing like how he normally was to begin with.

“Husband?” Michael approached and stared at him. Travis’ entire world decided to turn red but Travis somehow managed not to get his ass kicked by Michael. He didn’t answer, he didn’t know whether or not if he would say something that would ruin their relationship in the heat of the moment or not. Words were lost to him.

“Dude,” Will whispered into his ear. He realized then why Michael looked ready to kill someone too. Will was right behind him, arms stretched out around Travis’s chest and seemingly hugging him from behind. Travis knew that Will was the reason he didn’t move to strike Michael.

Michael was supposed to be his partner. His _husband_. Travis was suddenly remembering how little they knew of each other. Michael had mistaken him for Connor all these years because his information came from others. Travis didn’t know about Michael or his family. Hades, he probably wouldn’t know about Ernest if he had not been there when the tragedy occurred.

Pulling away Will stepped forward and reached a hand out at Michael. Michael stared at Will’s proffered hand for a time before shaking it. “Michael, nice surprise.” Michael nodded tersely, a sign that he didn’t want to talk at all. He then stared at the couch that he and Will had just been sitting on. “Oh, yeah,” Will turned to look at the couch. “Last thing to go into the truck, so if you don’t mind could use the help.” Will walked over to it and Michael followed. Travis still had no words and now he realized why Will had that look on his face. He knew what would happen.

“What’s wrong?” Michael finally spoke when they were alone on the street. It was late afternoon when they finally loaded the truck. Will had gone back in to return his keys and grab the last box of things.

“Nothing,” Travis curtly responded. He waved to Will who was getting into his old Toyota. Turning back to the sidewalk Travis stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and started trekking through the snow towards the bus stop.

“Travis.” Michael grabbed his elbow and turned Travis around. He held his breath and tried to calm himself before he started something he didn’t want to finish. “What’s wrong?” Michael asked again, this time in a softer tone. “You’re mad.”

“How would you know?” he finally snapped.

“Connor bursts,” Michael replied. He wrapped his hands around Travis’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “You on the other hand implode.” Travis rolled his eyes. He felt cold, mostly from standing in the cold but also from realizing he promised himself to someone he didn’t really know. Love… what was love, really?

Not wanting to think he let himself be escorted into Michael’s car and driven home. Travis followed Michael inside and after changing into warm and comfortable clothing he sat down on the sofa in the living room. Michael had bought it so he would have a place in the living room. The television was also Michael’s, but he never really watched anything unprompted. Even the _i_ Home in the kitchen wasn’t used unless Travis was the one using it.

There were things in this rented house that wasn’t Travis’ but was there for Travis. Things Michael had taken the time to add for him since they first moved in together. Now Travis had to wonder if it had all been planned from the beginning. Was this some elaborate joke? A dare? Did Michael want revenge for some unforgivable prank? He had gone so far as to call Jason and make a vow to the gods that he would tie his life to Travis. Someone didn’t do that for someone they _think_ they love, or someone they had every intention of never loving.

 _Vow._ Something was coming to Travis whenever he thought of the word “vow”. Vow meant a promise. _Promise…_

Travis couldn’t help but speak the words he was thinking of. “A child of truth in pools of lies, the angel’s promise to hold the ties…” Travis almost choked. The angel’s promise… Michael’s vow. His marriage vow to Travis.

His heart clenched tightly. It couldn’t…

His memory of last spring break came to him. He remembered Michael’s words when he used his charmspeak on Travis. _“If you wake up right now I will marry you!”_ That was what he’d said. Michael had sworn to marry Travis if Travis would wake up from the memories of his trauma. The remembrance that Michael had caused to begin with-

The pain in his chest tightened again. Michael came into the room and Travis felt his vision nearly blur.

* * *

 

“Michael,” Travis had groaned at him, nearly whimpering, when he saw Michael come into the living room. Michael stood in his tracks, pausing at the mere shock of Travis’ pained expression. It was not one he’d seen before, and one he wasn’t sure he knew how to handle. Travis’s eyes were brimming with tears, his eyebrows furrowed and confused, his hands unconsciously clutching at his stomach and chest…

It was a look similar to a year ago. That look that Travis was broken somehow in places Michael couldn’t touch. In the dark crevices of his own mind Travis was Humpty Dumpty who had sat on a wall.

“Yes?” he finally answered, and was afraid to hear Travis respond.

“Why do you love me?” Travis asked.

At any other point in time Michael might have laughed or patronized Travis, and treated it as the childish question it sounded. Nevertheless this was Travis, and it was not the usual Travis at any other point in time. This was the young little Travis who had been traumatized at an innocent and mischievous age. This was the young little Travis who could trust in no other person but his little brother and himself. This was the Travis who was told that he was broken and believed it. This was the Travis hiding underneath the starry-eyed gazes of the boy who love him.

He knew he should tell Travis. He knew that Travis didn’t know how or why he came to pay attention to him. Sure, he’d noticed the unmistakable stares. Michael was used to them. What made them significant had been the reason Michael had stared at “Connor Stoll” all those years ago, the reason he had approached “Connor Stoll” in the Apollo Cabin, and the reason he’d been disappointed when “Connor Stoll” never confessed.

“When we first officially met,” Michael spoke carefully. He raised his hand up and touched the single bead he wore around his neck. The one that first summer that had been given and shared between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter was special, but this specific one was exclusively and distinctively important. This was how Mike Kahale, centurion of the First Cohort of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata became simply Michael Kahale.

Travis closed his eyes and sighed, turning away. He sat on the sofa, legs up on the seat, curled into a ball. He hugged a pillow tightly and put his head down. Michael could tell that Travis was going through a rough time. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but he knew his _words_ meant a lot to Travis. For Michael he didn’t want to use his words, but as Piper McLean often reminded him in her messages—he needed his words.

Michael approached slowly. Travis flinched and turned his face away. Kneeling down on both knees before his man, Michael sat back and waited until Travis was comfortable with the distance. Visibly seeing Travis somewhat relax as the silence went on Michael took a deep breath to begin his story.

“When we first officially met it was during the end of the summer at Camp Half-Blood,” Michael reminded Travis. He clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to touch Travis and hold him. He wanted to comfort and protect the man who thought himself a broken, naïve boy. At the same time he knew that no one but Travis could mend what he thought was broken. Like a healed wound that sometimes ached, the brokenness in Travis was part of a distant memory that could no longer hurt him. Only his heart didn’t know that yet.

“Camp Half-Blood gave us this bead as a show of friendship,” Michael said next. He watched Travis’ body language, knowing the man recalled the events. Travis had shyly slipped through the crowd that had gathered to give him his bead that night. At the time he still had only just considered Travis as a dalliance and nothing more. Then he’d approached, stood on tiptoe even though he didn’t need to just to put the necklace on Michael.

Blushing profusely Travis had hesitated. Michael had even leaned forward so he could put the necklace on Michael.

Meaning to tease him then Michael had laughed and said, “You falling in love with me or something Greek?” He’d purposely smiled and winked, thinking at the time that Travis would laugh it off as he was known for his own jokes and pranks. Instead Travis’ face had flushed even more.

“When you put this on my neck,” Michael held out the bead with one hand, stretching the string on his neck. He stared at it, remembering the words that came. “I was teasing you and you got angry.” Travis nodded, ducking his head further into his knees. Remembering must have made Travis embarrassed. Michael smiled at the memory. “You put the necklace on and then you said…” Michael let his voice trail away with a smile.

“I hate you.”

Ever so slowly his lover finally lifted his head from his knees and stared at him. The tears were evident but Michael smiled and brushed the tears away. He could see the pain in his eyes, the thought that he was still broken behind those blue eyes. He could see the regret of those words taking root inside his heart and making Travis remember all the reasons he was wrong, broken, and twisted.

Michael kissed Travis’ lips slowly and lightly before pulling away again. “You said it as if you were telling me _‘I love you’_.”

He said, _“I hate you”_ with the meaning of love. It was the first time Michael had heard someone tell him so strongly what they really meant it had turned everything around. For the next five years continuing he had waited for Travis to approach him and truly say the words he wanted to hear. Not to hear “I hate you” with the meaning of love, but to truly profess love to him. Thinking of it now, he didn’t want Travis to anymore.

Travis finally laughed, sniffling as he chuckled. Wiping the tears from his cheeks and eyes Travis leaned forward and kissed Michael again.

“Even now,” he said with a soft and broken-like smile, “I hate you.”

 _Eight letters. Three words. One meaning._ Michael smiled and leaned his head down onto Travis’ knees.

He whispered instead to Travis, “I love you.”


	32. Fretting

Travis abruptly stood where he sat and Michael managed to catch his balance. He watched the way Travis blushed up to his fac. Michael stood up while Travis muttered to himself and fretted. He couldn't help but smile. His Travis was fine the way he was, even if he thought he was broken or wrong. It wasn’t like Michael was perfect, but Travis sure thought he was and that was the funny part.

Eventually his starry-eyed boy was going to realize why he thought Michael was so perfect, and why he has yet to really see any of Michael’s flaws. It wasn’t because Travis was “broken” or “wrong” that he saw Michael was the embodiment of perfection. So much so he even once compared Michael to Adonis. What Travis saw in Michael was exactly what Michael saw in Travis. They were mates in every sense of the word. Meant to be with one another, not because they completed one another but simply because they were the perfect someone they’ve always needed at one another’s side. Eventually Travis would come to realize it. Even if he didn’t Michael knew that Travis already knew somewhere in his heart. If he hadn’t they wouldn’t be standing here right now at all.

“I… I know we just um…” Travis stuttered as he tried to explain himself. He looked entirely lost for words and panicked. It was endearing compared to the past when it was just amusing. “We… uh…” Travis waved his hands and finally threw them up in the air to fall down against his side dramatically. Apparently it was a show that he’d given up explaining what had just happened logically. “Anyways I had plans tonight…”

“Tonight?”

“Y-yeah,” Travis answered nervously. Michael wondered exactly what Travis had planned. “With Nico…” He did not want to know what the plans were. He did not want Travis to have any plans. Especially when the plans involved Nico di Angelo. The guy was trouble. It was like he was causing trouble as some means of antagonizing Michael.

“Why?”

“Because I made plans!” Travis snapped angrily, still red in the face. He seemed to be inwardly angry with himself, which wasn’t unusual with Travis. He often contemplated too often to the point he would started to habitually talk to himself. “Anyways, I’ve gotta go.” Travis turned to head into the hall. Most likely to go into his room and prepare to leave. Michael felt like something very important was going to happen and he didn’t like that Travis was going to leave.

In afterthought Travis turned around and asked while stuttering, “A-are you going…” He paused to gather himself. “This weekend…” he mumbled. Apparently he’d given up asking in a coherent way.

“I have the weekend off,” he responded. Travis nodded and rushed off without another word. Michael sighed heavily. There goes his blushing bride. 

* * *

 

“What exactly did you need from me?” Nico asked in a very annoyed way. They stood in his house and the smaller man definitely seemed territorial. Travis had been trying to slow his breathing while Nico had been showering.

Nico sat down on his black couch in his black boxer briefs and muscle shirt. He was rubbing the water out of his hair when his gaze turned onto Travis sharply. He looked cool and very bossy barely dressed. Travis nervously clutched his hands together, interlocking his fingers.

“You’re nervous,” Nico noted out loud. Travis nodded but barely. It came out more like a jerk of his head. He stopped rubbing the water out of his hair and leaned his elbows onto his knees, closing in on Travis. “Why are you nervous?” He asked it suspiciously. It wasn’t like Travis had anything _planned_ by acting nervous. What was wrong with nervous?

“Well dude,” Travis started and then he couldn’t stop. “I mean, like come on man! It’s _this_ weekend. It’s supposed to be special!” Nico didn’t seem at all impressed or moved by that knowledge. He knew what this weekend was, Travis had told them that he was coming over to prepare for it. “It’s our first one too!”

Nico interjected, “No it isn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Travis looked confused, calming down just for a beat.

“He was there in 2011 at Camp,” Nico reminded him. Travis frowned. That did not count, and anyways that had been a horrible day to remember. Nico had happened to be there too, and Travis suspected then just as he did now, that it had been to keep tabs on Will. Travis, however, had not wanted to remember that horrible Monday in 2011. Travis had accidentally witnessed Michael getting kissed by three different girls at three different times. What kind of luck was that? Not just that, but Travis had spent most of that day trying to avoid Michael all together because of those possible encounters. He didn’t want to remember it again.

Nico had been staring at Travis very closely until a smirk broke on the man’s face. “Damn it, Nico!” Travis snapped, grabbed at Nico’s shoulders and being stopped inches away from wringing the guy’s neck. “I’m being serious here!” Nico was erupting with laughter before pushing Travis off him.

Travis paused from his fretting and worrying. Nico had been laughing just seconds ago. Earlier this morning he’d seen Will, who looked so solemn and depressed. He has kept the secret that Nico was in town all this time from his best friend. He wasn’t sure Will was ready to see Nico just yet, but he knew Will would never be ready. Not that Will had never been rejected before, but it was that Will had fostered such strong feelings for Nico even though he had no idea what kind of feelings Nico had for him. It hurt to have that kind of thing then be dashed.

“What?” Nico was back to his usual somber self.

“You think about visiting Will anytime soon?” Travis asked. “Maybe this weekend could be a good surprise?”

“No.” Nico hadn’t missed a beat when he responded. Obviously Nico had given it some thought. “I need time.”

“You’ve had time.”

“Not enough time,” Nico seethed back. Of course it had only been a couple of weeks or so. Travis was rushing Nico. “I need to…” Nico looked lost in thought. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” Travis backed away. He properly reseated himself. “I get that you two have to make the choices yourself, but knowing you two neither of you probably ever said it properly to each other.”

Nico glowered at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean really telling him your feelings. Saying the words that you love him,” Travis elaborated. He smiled at Nico as he thought back on his own defining moments with Michael. “Saying ‘I love you’ is hard,” he started out.

“More like grueling life-threatening,” Nico muttered.

Travis cleared his throat to ignore the comment. “But when you say it, it feels like you finally got over a great ordeal.” Nico rolled his eyes as he sat back against his black couch. “I mean it!”

Nico sighed, “How so?”

Travis thought for a moment. How would it best be explained or described? “Dude,” he exclaimed as it finally came to him. “You know it’s a lot like when you finally push out that poop that just won’t come out!”

Nico’s leg shot out and kicked him hard in the knee. Travis yelped and then cried out. Holding his knee he glared at Nico through a tear-filled vision. It blurred until he managed to wipe his eyes of the tears threatening to breach his eyes.

Giving him a disgusted look Nico growled under his breath, “Get on with your preparations and then get out of my place.” Nico stood up to walk away into his room.

Travis turned around and shouted towards Nico who was just stepping into his bedroom, “But what about the groceries I asked for?”

“They’re in the fridge!” Nico snapped.

“Thank you!” Travis smiled.

He was still worried, but at least he had mostly everything. He’d also borrowed Will’s handcuffs he’d gotten made from Leo Valdez before, so that was good. It was also why he’d gone to Will’s early. Will had reluctantly given it to him and spent thirty minutes teaching him how to use it. The hidden lock mechanism was what Travis was more interested in. Of course the handcuffs were just a precaution in case what he had planned out didn’t work out well.

Travis just needed to get his nerves settled. Maybe more than settled. Connor had suggested that Travis try some sort of entertainment for the weekend, but Travis didn’t have the guts for it. Not when it Michael was going to be the one being entertained. The man had a way of scrutinizing the very soul of a man with his unwavering gaze. It put Travis on edge. He could see how Michael could be a cop now. Which was messed up, he realized. He was married to a cop.

“Hey,” Nico called out to him as he opened his bedroom door. Travis turned around to face Nico. “You’re not going to tell me you also want flowers, are you?”

Travis smiled cheekily. Nico glared. He almost said yes just to mess with Nico. He thought better of it and shook his head.

“Good, I don’t think that’ll be a good touch. You might sneeze.” Nico walked out fully dressed. He was shrugging on his aviator jacket when he paused between the hallway into the kitchen and the living room. As though he was thinking still, Nico turned and mentioned, “Go with natural.”

“Honey?” Travis asked.

Nico turned around again just to glare at him warningly. He looked about ready to smack Travis with his Stygian sword strapped around his waist. Travis grinned. Nico turned back towards his path to the kitchen.

Travis went back to fretting. What if Michael wasn’t going to like this weekend? Last time when Travis tried to initiate intimacy Michael had pulled away. Maybe Michael preferred being the one who leads? Still, it wasn’t strange for Michael to go weeks and days without any close contact intimacy. Hades, most of their relationship was between a ride down the river and a rollercoaster.

Maybe he was overthinking everything. It was Michael after all. His actions spoke more for him than his own words. Plus they were already married, what more was there to worry about?

“I can do this…” Travis whispered to himself.

…

Even though he said that, Travis couldn’t bring himself to start their weekend off that Friday night so he instead went to his own bed and tried to sleep the entire night. He couldn’t sleep and laid in bed until morning came.

Groggily he’d gotten and was made breakfast by Michael. Michael had went out to do his stretches. As usual Travis peaked out from the window to stare at Michael’s stretches before his morning run. Michael did have a really nice butt, and his muscles were well defined and nicely sculpted. Too bad it was cold so Michael had on his warm exercising clothes.

Just as Travis thought Michael was going to run off without noticing he was staring, the man turned around. He looked right at Travis through the window and gave him a slight head tilt and informal two-finger salute before running off. Travis sat there with his mouth gaped open. What in the world was _that_ supposed to mean? And damn his stupid heart for reacting the same way a naïve schoolgirl would for her popular jock crush.

Travis finished his breakfast and had been thinking about how to go about implementing his plan for the weekend when the next thing he knew he was staring at the ceiling. It was dark. He had a bit of a headache and he felt dehydrated.

Travis looked at the time on his phone and almost tripped out of bed. It was night. His phone’s screen said “PM” that meant he slept the entire day away. It was 7:03PM. Would Michael still even be home now?

Travis glared at his phone again. There were a few messages and missed calls. The earliest one was from Michael. He unlocked his phone to look at the messages. The first one was a long message from Michael. He went on saying he was going out for a bit and would be back later. Then something about not having any caffeine because he can’t very well sleep his entire day away and stay up all night. After that Michael had gone on to say that there was leftover Chinese takeout in the microwave, and he should heat it up and eat it if he was hungry.

Now that Michael had mention it, Travis was hungry. He got up and made his way in the dark to the kitchen. He found the food in the microwave as Michael had said. While waiting on the food to heat up he looked at the time stamp on Michael’s message. It was from an hour ago, meaning if Travis had just woken up a bit earlier he would have caught up with the man.

Thumbing his way through his cell phone he saw that he got a message from Will. Will had said he called Michael out to help with putting the things in at his new place. Originally he had been trying to call Travis, but since Travis wouldn’t pick up he’d called Michael to see what the situation was. Somehow that had gotten to Michael offering to help apparently. Will also mentioned Connor on his way to help and Travis couldn’t help but smile. His brother and his husband in a confined space with only Will and Alethea between them? Travis wished he could see that.

The microwave beeped. Travis pulled out the containers of sesame chicken and fried rice. He stationed himself at the kitchen table with the containers and a spoon. While waiting for the overheated food to cool down he decided to look over this other messages.

Connor obviously left him twenty messages just to tell him how he’d arrived to Will’s to help, asking him where he was, and then complaining about every little thing Michael did. A new message came in just as Travis was chuckling at the last message mentioning that Michael had purposely painted Connor’s forearm instead of the wall. This time Connor was texting to tell him he was going to throw Michael into Phalen Lake. Travis decided he did not need to respond right away to those messages.

Travis was eating the leftover when he decided to look over the other messages. A few from some college buddies he'd made asking if he wanted to go out and drink. He forgot that he had not shared with them about his "marriage" and relationship with Michael. Bunch of sad single college students living off their parents' money anyways. There were a few he had made who completely blew his mind away. He had somehow been graced with the Sigma Lambda Beta step show and it had roused him in the same way he felt when he was in a game of capture the flag at Camp. Only then had Travis realized that although the world was a little different it didn’t mean he couldn’t experience the same emotions or thrills. Coming to know the people who would support and watch over him in such a way has helped Travis in his transition to the University of Minnesota.

Before Travis knew it the leftovers were gone, the last half eaten sesame chicken lying in the carton cold. Travis had been engrossed between YouTube videos, social media posts, and Connor’s text messages. He’d been drinking orange juice but had opted for the entire carton and left it out with a cup instead. So far he’d finished half the carton and he had a feeling Michael wasn’t going to like the fact that Travis went and drank all their vitamin C.

After reading a Wall Street Journal article he finally noted the time. At first he merely glanced at it but then he did a double take just as Will sent him a message.

“Dove is flying” was what it said. Will sent the message again, this time with an exclamation point at the end. Finally very loudly Will sent the message again. “DOVE IS FLYING!”

Travis started cleaning up immediately. He’d forgotten all about worrying over his weekend plan. If he really thought about it then it really wasn’t much of a weekend plan at all. He’d worried all night on Friday and slept the entire Saturday afternoon, and surfed the web all this Saturday evening. It wasn’t much of a weekend at all!

Travis had just gotten things cleaned up when he received Connor’s text message. It simply read, “Dove stalled. 1 hr.”

Breathing a breath of relief Travis went about setting up his plans for Michael. A good thing with having a brother and best friend in town was that plans usually worked out better with them than without. Though reluctant he was certain Connor had gone along with stringing Michael out of the house for Travis.

Finished setting up everything Travis became sleepy. It was well past the hour that Connor had said he stalled Michael for. It was almost midnight and Travis was standing around in Michael’s bedroom wearing nothing but a t-shirt and his boxer briefs. He was starting to feel the cold.

Standing alone for so long Travis began to overthink. What if his fears were true and Michael had lost interest? What if Michael had made plans and gone out? Travis felt the very pit of his stomach squeezing and squeezing. It wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t true but he couldn’t stop the fear. This deep set fear inside him that if Michael ever saw all of Travis he would freak out. Not have Michael haven’t literally seen all of Travis. He just couldn’t…

And then it began. Whenever, in the past few months, Travis started to freak out he went over the words etched into his mind and into his soul.

 _“Shh…”_ the voice shushed him next to his ear. Travis bit back a strangled moan. _“Listen to my voice.”_ The soft and smooth deepness engulfed Travis’s body as he slowly closed his eyes. He felt the body behind his back, encasing him in a cocoon of warmth. All that existed was the voice. _“Don’t think of anything. Don’t worry about anything.”_ Travis slowly felt the hardness at the pit of his stomach begin to relax its hold on him.

He said the words together with the voice as he clutched at the knot at his stomach. “There’s just you and me right now.” He remembered the rest, remembered the way the voice crept around him and surrounded him. The way he mesmerized him and calmed him. _“At this moment.”_ Together he spoke with the voice, “Suspended in all of creation.”

It felt like Travis was suspended in a sea of the universe, where down was the sky and up was the earth.

Just the tiniest bit of fear bit at Travis’ cocoon like some carnivorous insect on its prey. He shuddered as his concentration and mediation wavered. The voice continued, trying to reassure him as fear and trauma grasped at him again. _“Those memories… Don’t be afraid of them.”_

Travis opened his eyes and stared at Michael’s empty and cold bed. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered to himself.

The voice replied behind him, “I’m right here.” Travis felt himself freeze up. Knowing his embarrassing track record as it is, Travis wondered why he had expected to come out of this one without feeling awkward. Not only did his just go over his secret mantra in Michael’s room, he’d done it on supposedly one of the most romantic day (or night) designated in the American calendar. Of course Michael Kahale, perfect SOB that he was, was going to walk in and witness Travis’ embarrassing moment.

Travis didn’t dare look up or turn around. He felt the heat rushing up to his face, and how ridiculous he must have looked just then. He was not just wearing any t-shirt, he was wearing Michael’s t-shirt. It was overly large and hung over him like some kind of cotton nightie or nightshirt. Zeus strike Travis down now and just end it. Please.


	33. Valentine's

Dear Gods and Mother…

Michael started to pray when he opened the ajar door of his bedroom. Travis was standing with his back faced to him wearing nothing but a tee shirt. _Michael’s_ tee shirt. He felt his prick waking up from the long day he’d just had when he heard Travis muttering to himself. For a moment the words made no sense to him, until Travis repeated, “Suspended in all of creation.”

Then Michael really felt himself flare—burn with need. Travis was repeating the words Michael had said during last Spring Break. The words from his charmspeak that had forced Travis to relive memories he hadn’t wanted to relive. A deep set of guilt grabbed at him until Travis continued by saying, “Don’t be afraid.”

Unable to help himself and unwilling to stand there knowing Travis was going through some sort of break down he restated his words from that time, “I’m right here.” Michael remembered just about every detail of that week together with Travis. How could he forget?

For what felt like forever Travis just stood, unwilling to acknowledge Michael’s presence. Fed up with waiting he surged forward, dropping his duffle bag onto the floor and reaching his hands out towards Travis. He engulfed the man in his arms and held him tightly as he nuzzled his face into the crevice of Travis’ neck.

Travis smelled warm and like home. That very thought—the very knowledge rooted itself inside Michael. His hold tightened.

He repeated the words strongly and almost desperately into Travis’s ears, “I’m right here.”

“I can feel that,” Travis replied. For a moment Michael wondered what Travis was talking about and then realized what it was. He burst into laughter as Travis’ face heated all the way up to the tips of his ears. “Michael it’s not funny.” Travis puffed out his cheeks like a pouting child as Michael laughed. “It’s poking me.”

Michael moved his hand down to the bottom edge of the tee shirt and slid his hand under the shirt. “That’s what it does.” He started rubbing and petting Travis’ body underneath the shirt where his hand would allow. “It pokes and prods when it’s about to lose its head,” Michael smiled into Travis ear before taking a nip at it. Some moments later his hand was all the way up to Travis’ chest and the shirt was already half lifted towards Travis’s neck.

“But…” Travis started but then stopped. It was apparent the way his fingers started clawing at his own body as if some imaginary shirt was there. His husband just realized how confusing his actions were. He didn’t want a dick poking at or in him, and yet he’d opted for this kind of seduction which came hand in hand with such poking and prodding.

Michael decided to push just a little further. “My blushing bride,” he whispered into Travis’ ear and then kissed his jawline. Travis shivered, cutting off a sharp sound as he grabbed both of Michael’s hands to stop their movements.

“Today is…” Travis mumbled. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath and said again, “Today is... Today is…” His voice disappeared again and Michael kissed his smile onto the base of Travis’ neck. “Valentine’s…” Travis sighed out. Michael almost laughed but he held it in.

“Are you my present then?” Michael asked him. He walked them over towards the bed and turned Travis around. Of course his lover avoided his gaze by looking down and anywhere but at Michael. “Well?”

Travis groaned out loudly, sounded more annoyed than in pain. He leaned his head down onto Michael’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck. “Do I have to say it?” Travis whined. Michael couldn’t help but laugh this time. That was enough of an answer for Travis, because the man looked up again and sighed. “I’m all yours Michael Kahale.”

“Good.” Michael grinned and kissed Travis before abruptly pushing Travis onto the bed. Then they were in bed, Michael ravaging Travis with kisses and his touch. Travis looked worried for a moment, doubt clouding his heated gaze. “You’re definitely sweeter than chocolate.”

“Clichés, really?” Travis asked him.

“Says the man wearing nothing but my tee shirt giving himself to me on Valentine’s Day?” Michael responded in kind. Travis rolled his eyes but Michael smiled. He’d almost forgotten what day it was if Travis hadn’t asked if he was free for the weekend. Connor trying to stall him had also been a huge hint.

“Well…” Travis blushed, turning a deep crimson red. Tomato Travis was adorable. Michael couldn’t help putting a kiss on the man’s nose. Finally Travis grumbled, “I’m wearing my boxers too.”

Michael raised an eyebrow and watched Travis turn pale and then red again. Finally his blushing lover put his hands over his face and groaned out in frustration. He went on grumbling about never beating Michael at anything. Michael almost wanted to laugh but instead he got off Travis and laid down on his side of the bed.

“I’m sorry…” Travis apologized in a miserable tone. He looked just as miserable, his eyes threatening to well up in tears again. Michael pulled Travis into his arms and hugged the man close. “Sorry…” Travis gasped as his breath began to hiccup.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Michael assured him. In fact he had no idea why Travis was even apologizing.

“There’s just so many…” Travis babbled incoherently.

Michael decided this was it. The best way to assure Travis and come clean himself. He knew it was something he had to do now anyways so they could move forward. Not to mention because he would be working next to Will Solace in the future, and how he even came to be so…

“Let me tell you a bit,” Michael finally spoke. Travis paused in his whimpering to hear him. “About myself…”

Travis stayed perfectly still for what felt like hours. Finally Travis nodded. Michael then laid perfectly still for what felt like seconds but must have been minutes. Where did he start? Closing his eyes he decided to start where Michael Kahale started.

“My dad married when I was young,” Michael said softly. Travis didn’t speak but the slight tremors of his body against Michael’s told him everything. All his reactions that sounded like “seriously, oh my gods!” and such other reactions could be told from the way he pressed himself to Michael, or jerked, or stretched and shuddered.

“Anyways,” Michael went on and ignored Travis’ prick pressing against his thigh. “I’ve got younger siblings back in Hawaii. I don’t visit often because that’s not where I belong anymore.” Michael paused, thinking about how to really start his tale. “I was a bit younger…” Michael decided to start but couldn’t really find his usual confidence to speak. “I was younger than Ernest,” he clarified. That was considered a rather young age if any. “I spent time with Lupa. Of course not every demigod goes through that process. She’s where our origin is, so for most of us it’s an honor to be in her pack.” Michael sighed as he closed his eyes. The far and distant memories flashed in the darkness of his closed eyes. “That was where I found me. That was where Michael Kahale came to be.”

“I see,” Travis crooned sleepily. Only, he was wide away and laying his head in the crook of Michael’s arms. He was pressed against Michael’s side and looking directly at Michael.

Knowing he had Travis enthralled almost drew a smile on Michael’s face. Rather than smile he solemnly carried on with his story, “I learned to find strength when there isn’t any left to find. I found order in what was seemingly chaos. I found contentment in nothing. For a time I was fine with that. I was a kid, I didn’t care. I just wanted to live. Living was all that mattered.” Michael found that he was smiling to himself now. It was stupidly ridiculous what was in his head back then and even now. “When I got to Camp Jupiter I realized I didn’t know a damn thing about what living was like. Instead I was sponsored by the Apollo family… Octavian’s family.” This time Michael looked at Travis to find the expression there filled with heartbreak.

Travis was running five hundred different tragic scenarios in his head. Michael laughed to himself, because it was likely none of those scenarios were correct. Of course Travis had probably made his own conclusion to Michael’s story.

He went on anyways. “Most of my time there was a haze. You know some of it.” Michael didn’t want to bring up what he was used for or how he was treated. “That was where I became ‘Mike’ and I hated that.” Travis nodded, understanding. No doubt Travis had probably already heard stories during his time of service in Camp Jupiter and New Rome. “And it’s taken awhile, but now I have you. The way you look at me is like a boy wondering about the stories in the stars. You free me from the chains of Mike Kahale.”

Travis brushed his fingers over Michael’s hair, over his ear, and cupped his jaw. “Michael,” Travis whispered huskily. His forehead leaned into Michael’s shoulder. “You know you belong to me, right?” Travis chuckled into his ear. Michael smiled as Travis’ hand travelled down his neck across his chest. Travis whispered, “Including Mike.” Travis’ hand fell over Michael’s heart, and then the man reached over and kissed Michael’s chest.

“I was there when you claimed me,” Michael chuckled. He relaxed himself into the bed and kissed Travis’ forehead. Michael didn’t miss the symbolism in Travis’ kiss or his words. All of Michael belonged to Travis and that included Mike Kahale. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he added softly as he stared at the ceiling.

Remembering the way his usually timid and happy-go-lucky Travis was that day in New Rome did a number on Michael. There have been nights he laid awake wondering if Travis wasn’t a Roman. Greek demigods had their own form of aggressiveness and power, but for one to display such a strong will was astonishing. Travis was a son of Hermes, known for being wayward and adventurous. They were the least likely to be grounded the way Romans were with little restraint. That day Travis stood claiming him in front of Wanda Gold, the way he handled it, had been animalistic and primal. As if Travis has run with the wolves before and knew the only way was to take what he wanted and make it his. Michael liked seeing it.

Travis has been wavering between running away from Michael and wanting Michael deep in his heart. He hadn’t realized he’d been worried over it until Travis claimed him as his. The problem now was Travis wavering between whether that decision was right or wrong. It also didn’t help knowing that sex was not the best way for Travis to confirm it. Michael really wanted to have him again.

“You don’t want to?” Travis asked him abruptly. For a moment Michael was afraid he might have said something out loud but flashed a smile when he realized Travis was staring at his cock.

Travis shifted to sit up on the bed. Michael moved to do the same. The man’s eyes stared right at Michael’s crotch wondering why he was limp there. A part of him felt prickled by the idea that Travis thought he didn’t want him.

“Do you…” Travis started but paused uncertainly. He turned a very stern gaze Michael’s way and cleared his throat. “Do you have a unique taste we haven’t talked about?” Michael almost fell back into bed at that question. Did he really just get asked if he had some kind of fetish?

Michael leaned his head onto Travis’ shoulder with a sigh. “My only unique taste is you.” Or else why would he fall in love with this funny man? In the silence he could hear Travis’ next question. Why haven’t they have sex yet since? Deciding he should tell Travis Michael laughed at the thought of his husband’s reaction. “I’m a child of Venus.”

“Yes so you’re perpetually horny.”

Michael laughed again. He lifted his head and leaned towards Travis’ ear. “I usually have control over my sexual desire.”

“What?”

Michael pointed Travis’ gaze towards his crotch again. “Usually.” Michael wanted to say that he normally didn’t have control over his desire for Travis. Only it seemed by the way Travis was now eyeing his limp member that he was thinking the same. “So, let’s finish letting me unwrap my present.” Michael leaned in and kissed Travis before moving his hand under the shirt Travis wore.

Whether tonight was a way to confirm Travis’ decision to claim him or not, there was no way he was going to stop. He told Travis once that there was no stopping any of this. They might take their time and go slowly but they weren’t going to stop again. He was going to prove it as many times as needed with or without sex.

* * *

 

What time was it? Travis blinked away his tired sleep and wondered if it was still night. He turned to the window and saw the light streaming through the curtains, knowing then that it was light out. Travis sat up quickly when he realized Michael wasn’t in bed.

Scrambling out of the bed Travis grabbed the closest article of clothing and ran for the kitchen. The shower was on and Michael never took longer that fifteen minutes. He slipped on the t-shirt in his hand and nearly ran into the refrigerator in his haste. Travis opened the refrigerator to make breakfast. That was on his list of things to do for Valentine’s Day. Nico wasn’t any help with that so he had to look online for it.

“Pancakes. Pancakes…” he muttered to himself. Travis had the battered made quickly since he’d planned for it, but he constantly fretted over the level of the heat and timing to flip the pancakes. He was just about to flip it over the pancakes when he felt arms wrap around his waist.

“Morning,” Michael grunted behind him. He pressed his chin down on Travis’ shoulder as the bulge in his front pressed into Travis’ back.

“You’re up early,” Travis managed to say calmly.

Michael laughed in quiet amusement before kissing Travis by his ear. “For you I can be up anytime.” Travis realized what kind of meaning Michael meant when the bulge pressing into his back dipped towards Travis’ undressed butt. Feeling himself heat up Travis almost wanted to run away if he wasn’t already cooking.

“Wait I’ve gotta…” Travis started to say but it ended on a hitch. Michael’s hand had slid down Travis’ body and caressed his butt cheek. The fingers smoothed down between the crack of his cheeks and Travis felt him go weak.

“Flip the pancake,” Michael whispered into his ear. His hands stopped moving, holding Travis in position. Shaking, Travis took a long moment to recollect himself before flipping the slightly burnt pancake over.

First there was silence as Travis knew Michael was staring at the pancake. Then he flushed as Michael removed his hands from caressing him to wrapping it around his body and holding him tight. Just that action alone told Travis how Michael felt.

“You taught me what it is to love someone, and I love you more for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because love is a privilege.”

Travis had never thought of it that way. Whether it was love for his family or friends he’d never thought of it as something they had to earn. In a way he understand why Michael thought of it that way.

“And you gave me another chance to have that privilege. I love you.” Travis felt his tears welling up. “All of you. Just as all of Michael Kahale belongs to you, everything that is Travis Stoll belongs to me. And I won’t let this love slip away again.” Michael kissed his next.

Travis could only think of one thing to say at such a time. “All I did was make heart shape pancakes.” _With X’s and O’s in them._ It really shouldn’t have warranted the seriousness in which Michael reacted to them. Yet he felt extremely glad that it had.


	34. The Privilege and a Grand Adventure

Michael took a deep breath. Their morning had been uneventful, and for the most part that was amazing. He sat down on the couch next to Travis where the man sat cross-legged. Travis blushed with how close he was, but Michael ignored Travis' usual bashfulness. He would never get tired of it but he simply decided it was now or never if he wanted to have the future to see all of Travis' expression.

"So... um..." Travis' husky voice softly spoke. Tongue tied and all Michael couldn't imagine anyone who had a voice that could make his libido go so out of control. One moment Travis could be rambling on about nonsense and Michael would find himself in need of the privacy of a bathroom stall. Another moment Travis could be working on his laptop doing homework and Michael almost wanted to ask him to stop biting his lower lip involuntarily because Michael’s member couldn’t decide between half-mast and hard-on.

Even without sex Michael could not see living his life with any other person than Travis Stoll. He could live his life alone or with Ernest, but he would never be able to imagine joining his life with anyone else the way he wanted it to be shared with Travis.

Deciding the best way for him to take over the start of this conversation was to first shut his husband up, Michael leaned in and gently kissed the man. As he pulled away slowly he opened his eyes to watch the way Travis seemed to breathe in the moment of their kiss as they separated their lips. Travis' eyes slowly fluttered open and his eyes moved left and right in search of Michael before they finally locked on him. Michael smiled, his heart warming, as he kissed Travis on his nose and then his eyes. He liked seeing the way Travis seemed to go off somewhere else when Michael kissed him, and then come back as though making sure Michael was real.

He breathed in the scent of the man and found the strength to speak. "I know it must have hurt," Michael decided to start with those words. Travis looked at him confused. Alright, not the best words. He had never really claim to be one who spouted poetry. "At the start of last year before I left the service,” he clarified the point in time. Still Travis looked mildly confused, and Michael could see that the memories were not as clear or important in some areas than it had been for Michael. “You had returned from your quest and I realized something when Will had been taken with Nico di Angelo." Again realization eluded Travis but his lover was uncharacteristically patient with his explanation.

Michael took in another breath, taking in Travis’ scent along with it. It was not as though Travis smelled like something refreshing, but Travis did at least smell refreshing. He didn’t exactly have a woodsy air about him or a city smell of perfume and cologne. Travis simply smelled new, like when one traveled, or the way a science lab was sanitized, or like a new book when you opened it. Sometimes Travis was like the scent of an old book that hadn’t been opened in years and retained an evolved scent of newness. Those scents were relaxing to him.

“You had tried to tell me once that I was wrong to have let you go about for five years thinking I didn’t know you liked me,” Michael decided it was best to try at a more relatable beginning than at the very start. Where Michael started and where Travis started was different, but the breaking point for both of them was there in the infirmary. The sliver of hurt he saw in Travis’ eyes told him that the man remembered. “Then I saw how afraid you were when Will was taken by Nico’s powers. I realized that I had been lacking something I never really thought I wanted or needed.”

Travis turned a confused expression back at him. Michael simply smiled and kissed Travis lightly on the lips again. That dreamy look Travis got as though he went to a far better place when Michael kissed him spread over the confusion. A thought suddenly sprang in his head and spread throughout his body. _Not for the world._ It rang in his head and could not stop until it etched itself into his heart.

He stared at the corner of the wall and tried to bring himself back from his desires. “When someone loves you, it isn’t a right or a demand. It’s a privilege to be loved by someone. I had never thought of it that way until then.” Part of him, he realized, regretted that he had never confronted Travis on his feelings for five years. Yet at the same time part of him had been sorely disappointed that Travis never confronted Michael or tried to confess.

“Love is a privilege, you say.” Travis smiled at him as if Michael had said the cutest thing in the world. Michael scowled at his husband. “Then I’m glad you get so many liberties from me, privileged as you are.” Michael just shook his head and grinned before kissing Travis. Only Travis Stoll could take something so serious and turn it around into something so easy to laugh at.

“I’m just glad it wasn’t too late.”

This time Travis shook his head with a smile. “Never too late, Michael Kahale.” He raised an eyebrow in silent question at Travis. As if knowing the question the man answered back. “If not you, I would spend my entire life a lonely old virgin who yells at kids in the neighborhood because he’s so miserable. I would’ve been one of those old weird people with cats that eat them when they die of old age. I would have waited an entire lifetime for another day with you.” It was that admission that undid him.

Michael gathered the man into his arms and laid him over the couch. Bending over him Michael kissed Travis once and then again, and then once more for good measure. Travis didn’t know that the words he said were exactly the same as Michael’s thoughts. He would give up a life together with someone else because they were not Travis. He would go his entire life never having sex if only to spend it in a mundane and quiet life with the man. So long as he had Travis he would give up anything.

“Then the privilege is mine,” Michael smiled as he put his forehead down against Travis’ forehead. “And I would be honored to spend my remaining life with you each day.” Michael would make it a point to spend all the days of his life with Travis. He didn’t want to go a day without seeing his face.

“That’s a promise, is it?” Travis grinned devilishly. “I’m going to have to hold you to that.” Michael couldn’t have wanted it any way else.

“Just don’t forget it the way you forgot you were going to get married.” Michael laughed as Travis smacked his arm and bit into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. He was going to enjoy teasing Travis Stoll into anger. The man didn’t show it merely enough. 

* * *

 

Travis gasped for breath and bit into his forearm just above his wrist. Tears almost came over his eyes as Michael leaned over Travis’ back and pushed his giant dick an inch further into Travis’ hole. Another breath in through his nose. Okay, so maybe he could be exaggerating the size of Michael’s penis. Maybe? It felt like a giant dump that took five minutes to push out. Only it was trying to push in. Breathe out. Was this how men seriously had sex?

A chuckle came overhead. “Only with each other,” laughed Michael from behind him.

He’d said everything aloud again hadn’t he?

“Yes.”

A groan came out and it wasn’t from Michael pushing in. “Stop answering when I’m talking to myself,” Travis grumbled. It sounded stupid once he said it out loud and he already knew the response.

“Who else could you possibly want to talk to?” That stupid arrogant voice whispered into his ear and Travis melted in embarrassment. Just then he felt a thrust and gasped, his voice loss to him as the full length of what could only be his husband’s dick pushed through him.

“Deep breaths,” Michael gently ran a hand down Travis’ chest to his stomach and then finally his groin. Travis shuddered at the intimate but brief touch before it settled just under his belly barely brushing the base of his erect cock. “I’ll wait.”

“Can you not make it sound like I’m a virgin?” Travis couldn’t help the biting tone when he said it. It felt as if Michael was trying to accommodate him in this act.

“You are a virgin.”

“No I’m not!”

“Starry Eyes,” Michael sighed against his cheeks. Travis tensed, his elbows buckled and he almost fell flat on the bed. He’d heard a couple times when Michael had admitted to calling him the starry-eyed boy with love in his gaze. Or something like that. He’d never actually called Travis Starry Eyes before. It was cliché and corny but this was Michael Kahale they were talking about. Corny definitely tagged along with the poetry spouting.

“Gods, I’m going to be answering to that the rest of my life aren’t I?” Travis took another deep breath. Was that sweat dripping over his eyes or tears? He hoped it was sweat because it definitely didn’t feel like a fucking gigantic snake just slitter its way up his ass.

“Listen to me,” Michael sighed. His forehead dropped onto the back of Travis’ shoulders and the man’s weight shifted on top of his back.

“Okay.” Travis clenched his jaw shut and stopped deflecting.

“What that monster did to you when you were younger,” Michael started slowly. Travis closed his eyes and pressed his face into the bite on his forearm. It had to be the sweat dripping into his eyes because everything had gone blurry anymore. “Listen,” Michael urged quietly but roughly too. He felt the arms around him tightened. Michael wrapped his arm to cup around Travis’ arm and his hand brushed into Travis’ hair. His other hand wrapped around Travis’ waist and pulled them closer than he’d thought possible with the man already inside him as far as possible.

“Okay,” said Travis as his voice broke.

“What happened to you wasn’t sex. It wasn’t love. You know this.” Michael nuzzled Travis’ face before pressing a kiss on the back of Travis’ neck. “It was a violation and a crime. It was an act of violence.”

Travis gulped, clearing his throat and took in a deep breath. He lifted his head and turned his head so he could see Michael.

“Is that your way of saying you took my virginity? That I belong to you?” asked Travis very blandly. Michael gave him a toothy grin. “Gods, you’re incorrigible.”

“You enjoyed your first time.”

“Yeah well I’m not enjoying this time,” Travis grumbled. He accidentally pulled forward and gasped. His voice disappeared on him again and while it had stung when Michael’s cock had moved out what felt like three inches there had also been pleasure. A strange burning pleasure that had shot through him and buckled his knees and his hips.

“You will,” Michael huskily whispered into his ear. Then the man started moving. Travis tried to protest but all he could manage was to gasp and moan as a dull pain and an intensely hot pleasure coursed through his entire body. This was different from before.

“Love you,” Michael breathed against his cheeks. He shifted Travis onto his side and lifted his leg up over his shoulder. Travis stared at him in shock at the realization of what the pose meant. He tried to protest again but Michael had already pushed in so deep Travis could only manage to clutch tightly to the bed.

The thrusting sped up. Travis stared up at Michael. His eyes blurred as he tried to make out Michael’s face. For a moment the image of his lover and his victimizer overlapped but the pleasure assaulted him more than the horror. He couldn’t see clearly but he knew it was Michael giving him this moment.

“Mine,” Michael growled. He was suddenly right in front of Travis, no longer looming just over him but bent over him. Michael’s hands cupped Travis’ cheeks and wiped the tears away. “Starry Eyes,” Michael whispered against his lips before leaning down and kissing him. “Hi there,” Michael smiled at him once he had pulled from the kiss.

Travis gasped for breath. He moved his legs from Michael’s shoulder and wrapped both legs around the man’s hips. He pulled Michael closer until they were embracing tightly. Michael didn’t laugh this time as if he was indulging Travis. He rubbed his cheeks into Travis’ sweaty hair before whispering quietly into his ear, “Did you see me?”

“There’s only ever been you,” he hoarsely whispered. So this was what Michael had meant.

“And it’s been a privilege,” said Michael. He then put his forehead on Travis’ before closing his eyes and breathing him slowly. He opened his eyes and leaned up on his elbow. “Are you ready for the amazing part?”

Travis managed a smile. He cocked an eyebrow at Michael, “You mean I haven’t been already?”

Michael laughed. “Always, Starry Eyes.” He sat up and pulled Travis right up onto his lap.

“Seriously, we’re not going to call me that for the rest of our lives are we?” Travis asked. It was embarrassingly corny and he just knew Connor was going to laugh in his face.

“Only between us.”

“That’s not assuring.”

“You’re going to enjoy it.” That wasn’t exactly a promise he wanted Michael to uphold. Of course it was Michael. He was going to find ways to get Travis to enjoy being called Starry Eyes, especially during sex. So debauchery was Michael’s choice of weapon. Travis was going to have to plan ahead to thwart Michael. It’ll be a grand adventure.


End file.
